


I'll Fly Away

by linatrinch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Canon, Apocalypse, Between Seasons/Series, F/M, Interspecies Romance, Romance, Season/Series 08, Season/Series 09, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 41
Words: 133,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linatrinch/pseuds/linatrinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthazar, the once dead angel, ended up falling along with the rest of Heaven's garrison. How? Why? Along with a hunter named Catherine, he has every intention of finding Dean and Sam to figure out what's going on, assuming the enemy doesn't get to him first. Like Abaddon or... worse. Balthazar/OC. AU set from the end of Season 8.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I've posted this fic before on FanFiction, but I wanted to do it again over here. Hopefully, even better this time. Like 2.0 version or something with a lot of mistakes fixed, though some are unfixable. If people want more, I'll update it weekly. Anyway, Enjoy!

A red and black striped 1961 Dodge Challenger sped down the paved back road at nearly one in the morning until Catherine was at least fairly sure she was far enough away from any police man's watchful eye. There must have been previous reports of vandalism in that graveyard prior to her finding the body of her ghostly friend. It didn't look good on her to be caught burning bodies, but, thankfully, she wasn't caught. Just very nearly.

So ridiculously stupid, but at least she got the bitch.

She pulled off to the side of the road, keeping a watchful eye to make sure no one decided in that moment to come around the next bend. She was in the thick of trees and, at this hour, it would look just a little suspicious to find her here now. Years of hunting and _now_ she decides to be paranoid over the cops.

With a sigh, Catherine reached for the sawed off shotgun in the passenger seat, cocking the barrel and checking on her ammo. Only one salt shell left in the gun. She had been lucky. Cat reloaded the gun and turned the safety on, before putting it back and reaching for her pistol stuffed in the back of her jeans, when a shimmer caught her eyes shining off the hood of her car.

She jumped and looked to the source, seeing nothing there. If she hadn't been so jumpy over the police, she may have missed the small light. Catherine took a calming breath and leaned forward in her seat, palming her pistol, but nothing happened for several tense seconds until another small light darted across the hood. It was a reflection from- She looked to the sky. They must have been falling stars.

A deep breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding escaped her and she leaned back in her seat just in time to catch another dart across the sky. Drawing her attention back to the gun in her hands, Catherine took out the magazine to count what was left of her bullets when she suddenly realized that she could see a great deal better than a few seconds ago. Upon looking up again, Catherine saw a lot more meteors than she had assumed would be in a meteor shower, some traveling slowly across the sky, others being... almost _big_ enough to make out. They must be big. They couldn't be that close... but it was so many.

She stopped counting after she reached thirteen before loading her gun again and stepping out of the car. The wind had picked up and the sound of a loud, far off, roaring echo traveled through the area. Catherine was no expert about anything like this, but she was fairly sure meteor showers didn't feel and sound like this. This felt like... like something was actually a little too close for comfort and wasn't entirely burning away in the atmosphere.

The roaring grew louder and shadows from the trees across the road stretched over her and the car. She quickly turned to look at the light, gripping her gun tight but still finding fear in something she didn't understand, when the shadows and lights from the trees darted across the highway as the meteor quickly drew closer. In an instinctual reaction, Catherine flung herself to the ground beside her car just as the fire roared pass directly over the tree tops and landed with a massive explosion not far from her position.

She sat up and, with her back pressed against the rear tire of the Challenger, Catherine took heavy breaths and watched as the meteors fell from the sky in every direction. End of the world? She wasn't sure, but it was terrifying all the same. None of the others seemed to be touching down anywhere near her, but the amount of meteors falling didn't slow up or lessen at all. Her primary option was to sit quietly, albeit terrified, and watch stars rain down from the Heavens...

She glanced over the trunk of her car to the crash site, seeing a red glow through the trees that can only indicate fire. Again, not an expert, but a meteor around about the size that she had seen—and she had a front row seat to the thing—would have done a lot more damage than a small fire. Perhaps this was something more in her department... but what? If it had legs and any sort of sense, it wouldn't stick around for very long. She took another breath and got up, slinked quietly around the car, and ran into the wood as fast as she could manage without drawing too much attention. A pistol and hunting knife wasn't exactly great protection, all things considered, so she didn't want to even act like she could jump in, guns blazing.

The fire hadn't spread as much as she thought it would have, considering the huge ball of fire that had passed over head mere moments ago, but it took her less than five minutes to find the point of impact... and a groan to reach her ears.

Breathing in cold air mixed with charred ash hurt the lungs of the man groaning on the ground far more than the woman approaching him. He rolled off of his back to lean against his shoulder and it was around this point that he noticed the gun pointed at his face held by, what looked like, a very scared brunette in her later twenties. He was too hurt and confused to question it so Balthazar rolled his eyes and looked to the ground.

“What are you?” Catherine breathed out, grabbing her knife with her free hand to prove she was at least armed a bit. It was stupid to go against something she didn't know, of course, but she didn't have a whole lot of choice in the matter.

The man groaned again, this time from annoyance, as he slowly attempted to get to his knees. Ignoring the girl and her question, he instead started patting down his chest and stomach, looking down at the gray, v-neck shirt. The action drew her attention to his chest, as well, noting the small hole and blood on his clothes. Looking back up to his face, she suddenly wasn't sure which one of them was more confused in the matter.

Balthazar looked past the trees, his eyes giving a very far away look. “I'm alive,” he muttered beneath his breath. It was a bit too much to take in, though it didn't come without a reward. His wings-

“I caught that,” she answered back, bringing his attention back to the woman who was still here for some reason. “I meant more specifically.”

He glanced back over to her, still caught without his breath and trying to figure out what in the Hell had happened for him to end up... here. “Angel,” he answered her, not really bothering with any sort of mysterious answer. There was too much mystery going on right now for his taste. “I'm an angel.”

Balthazar began to get to his feet, but the woman brought her firearm up again and took a step back. She had never been one to claim there was no such thing in something, especially since that was a sound enough explanation for whatever was still going on around them, but it was still pretty hard to believe. “Where's your wings?”

He laughed hollowly at what appeared to be a very, very bad joke. His wings were there, of course, but in ribbons, completely unusable. Is this what Cas did? Instead of kill him, subject him to a life like this, away from Heaven? Away from communications with his brothers? Not that he ever cared to use that, but still. It would be handy right now. “You can't see them. Halo, either. Now, if you don't mind-”

She cut him off from stepping around her. “You're not leaving,” Catherine told him with actual determination. She needed to know what to do with him. Were angels any good? She grew up in a religious family and angels didn't always seem like the good guys. She couldn't let him leave, but how did she kill an angel? If he even was an actual angel, that is.

“I'm afraid I am, love. Move.” If his wings were torn apart, he wasn't sure how much power he had left or if he wanted to waste any of it. After all, he could have sworn he was dead a moment ago...

The obviously scared woman... well, hunter really, didn't move to get out of his way. He tried again. “Please, move.”

“I don't know what the Hell is going on,” she began, “but you are not leaving, Angel Man. Falling out of the sky in a ball of fire tends to make someone a little suspicious of your actions.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don't have time for this. Sorry, sweetheart.” Balthazar motioned his arm towards the girl and sent her flying back to her car. Her head and back connected harshly against hood and she fell to the ground in heap, unconscious or worse.

The angel stalked out of the thicket, watching the sky and spying a few others falling just as he did. It was odd... and troubling. He needed to find out what was going on, but he couldn't do so here. However, if there were angels now across the globe, hunters would be all over it. He looked back to the woman and knelt down beside her to place his palm on her forehead, healing what wounds he had inflicted. She would have to be his informant, at least for the basics of whatever was going on. Perhaps this was the result of Castiel or Raphael busting into Purgatory unannounced.

He stood again, debating on whether or not to steal her car to find the nearest town, as that would certainly give them a reason to find each other again, but ultimately decided against it and went back into the foliage that he had landed in.

* * *

Catherine lurched forward as soon as she awoke, sitting up quickly and looking around. The first rays of dawn were beginning to spread through the trees where, just last night, an angel passed through on his fall from Heaven... assuming that is what happened. She couldn't take his word.

Looking around further, she found no smoke from where he had landed and, most importantly, that she was unharmed. The... whatever he was didn't kill her when he had a clear shot. That was troubling. He could have left her alone for any number of reasons, few of them charitable.

She stayed in the area for another fifteen minutes, making sure there was no sign of her visitor before gathering her gun and knife again and getting back in the car. She had to leave before traffic started to pass through and the man wasn't anywhere in sight, so she pulled back onto the road to head for home and call some sort of informant that might know what on Earth had happened.

While driving, she continued glancing up to the sky, noting how ordinary it looked again.


	2. In The Know

Catherine pinched the bridge of her nose as she stalked in front of the muted TV with her cell to her ear. So far, the words of her visitor last night seemed pretty true.

“Angels?” she asked again to the man on the other end of the phone. “They're real and-? What? Hurt? I don't-”

“ _Well, probably_ ,” the voice answered from the other end of the phone. “ _Informant says they actually_ fell _from Heaven or something like that and they're pissed._ ”

“I would be, too,” she muttered, finally sitting down on the couch to watch the news. The world wide meteor shower from the night before was just astounding to the whole world. Wonderful.

The voice continued. “ _Apparently, they're like demons. They need to possess someone to walk around and they're damn powerful and damn dangerous. They aren't the stereotype. They'll kill people._ ”

Cat groaned and hung her head. Matt was an older man—a hunter, of course—and she had never questioned his sources or ever found a reason to, but all of this? It was a bit too much to take in all at once. Most monsters gave a person a few centuries to get used to. Luckily, she hadn't told old Matt about her encounter so far. “How do we kill them?”

She heard a sigh on the other end and the creak of his chair. Cat closed her eyes. “ _There's some sort of holy oil,_ ” he began, “ _from Jerusalem. It's not exactly on the market, but making a ring around them and burning it traps them, might even hurt them. All of 'em carry around their own weapons, too. Some sort of blade or dagger or something. It kills other angels and... basically anything else from what I'm told. Other than that_ ,” he sighed again and she could hear him flipping pages of a book, “ _there's apparently some sigils or wards or something that can keep them out, but... I don't know any of it. I don't even know where to look. I mean... this is kind of new._ ”

“Matt,” she pinched the bridge of her nose and started to rub her eyes, remembering that she had yet to get any sleep from the night before aside for being knocked out. “Where are you even getting what you already know from? I mean, have you seen any of it work or-”

“ _No_ ,” he went ahead and answered her. “ _But I have my stuff on good authority._ ”

“And that is...?”

“ _Old friends... and the King James._ ”

“The Bible...” Catherine pulled her fingers through her hair. This was all so ridiculous.

“ _Every hotel's got one. I'd get to reading._ ”

“I'm not in a hotel,” she leaned back on the couch. “I'm home now. Was hoping to keep it that way. I don't mind going across state for a bad demon, I get that, but I'm not about to go around hunting angels if they're that bad. We don't even know what happened in Heaven or what their motives are for hurting people.”

“ _Catherine_ ,” he answered back sternly. “ _We can't give them two inches. They're worse than demons. You know what the devil is, right? He was the first of those things to fall. He's been out of contact with Heaven for just about ever. Now all of his brothers and sisters are down here, too. You see what I mean?_ ”

“I'm not trying to argue their case, I'm just saying that they are way too much for us right now. They're... _too much_.”

“ _Are you scared?_ ”

She dropped her arms down in defeat, taking the phone away from her ear in the process. Catherine never really was the type to travel the country and hunt things down when she came across them. She was more of the type to let them come to her. But scared? Fear got people killed, even if these things were damn scary.

Matt's voice drifted to her from the phone and she put it back to her ear again and continued. “I'm just saying that we don't know how powerful they could be. Trying to fight one alone on the information we have is suicide. You don't know what these things do.”

“ _And I'm guessing that you do?_ ”

She stayed silent for a moment, finding it hard to decide if she should say something or not. It was already too late.

“ _Is there something you want to tell me?_ ” His question would have sounded sincere if he hadn't screamed it.

“I, uh-” Catherine rubbed at her eyes again. “I might have had a close encounter with the holy kind last night.”

The other end stayed in silence as Matt went through the usual questions in his head. She was alive. If she were hurt, she would have said something. Cat knew him well enough to wait a moment until he finally said, “ _Tell me everything._ ”

So, she told him about her late night bonfire, running home from the cops, the meteor shower, almost getting killed by said meteor shower, and the strange... angel. She made sure to include how easy it was for him to toss her aside like he had done, but also mentioned that she came away unscathed.

“ _Strange he didn't kill ya,_ ” he seemingly muttered to himself. “ _You said he landed in the trees... with a body and everything._ ”

“He even had an accent. Something... Europe-y. I'm pretty sure there wasn't a guy out there, I mean... they were all falling. It didn't look like they had flight paths.”

“ _He already had a vessel. He was here before, like the ones in the lore._ ”

Catherine remembered how the angel looked a bit battered when she had first come across him, how he was stunned at just being alive. Of course, that could have been because he just fell from the freaking sky.

Matt's voice pulled her back to the conversation. “ _My source said they used to be able to fly. Like teleporting to you and me. Jumping around from place to place, but since they fell, they got their wings ripped off or something._ ”

There was a pause, so she just shrugged. “Okay?”

“ _He's not far._ ”

Realization of his words hit her and she leaned forward on her arms. “You want me track him down?” she asked him incredulously. Didn't she just get off of the soap box about that?

“ _This is a good lead. Just keep an eye out for him. You don't have to step in alone. I'll send someone your way, but they might take some time to get there. Just find him. Watch him. That's all I ask._ ”

“You didn't get slung into your car,” she groaned, rubbing her forehead in thought. To be honest, it was a good plan. Jumping in would be stupid, but keeping an eye on him, making sure he wasn't torturing people or whatever? That could come in handy. “Fine. I'll start looking.”

“ _Good girl. Keep in touch._ ”

“Yeah, yeah.” She hung up the phone, watching the news play back in thought while biting her thumb. His trail was already cold when she had come to earlier in the day... Catherine sighed, turning the TV off and getting up.

* * *

 So it definitely wasn't just him. From the way the hunters had talked over the phone, it sounded like all of the angels had fallen...

Balthazar kept a close eye on the woman, but due to his recent handicap, he could only do so much. He watched her leave her home in the middle of no where, probably to go back to the same place they had parted ways, and waited until she was gone to start moving.

He had some information, but not enough, not yet. This woman, Catherine, seemed just as curious as he was about what had happened the previous night, so it was wise to stay around her. Let her gather up information for him. There was nothing he could do about it for the moment, especially with his old pals seemingly hidden from him.

With nothing else to do for the time being, he resolved to make his way through the thicket of pine trees and into town. Try to find other information or maybe a monster or two who would actually know something.

* * *

 Catherine had caught no sign of her angel friend at their previous rendezvous, as expected. After looking around there for a bit, she headed into town. Thomaston was the nearest town in miles, so it was her best chance.

She didn't know a whole lot about actual living and breathing angels, so she checked the usual places. Gas stations. Restaurants. Hotels. Angels wouldn't fall with a pocket full of money, but it sounded like they could easily get whatever they pleased; however, these places turned up no luck, back to back.

Working her way out of town, she went through the older parts of the area, the abandoned parts, so to speak. Still no sign of anything. The entire time, she was wired for something to go wrong quickly. If she did happen to find him, she doubted he would be thrilled about it.

Eventually, she had made her way to the river and the evening was only just starting to set in. She walked along its banks for a few moments, already knowing there was nothing here. The angel had a whole day's worth of a start on her. He was already long gone.

With a heavy sigh, Catherine turned around to start heading back to the car only that someone was now standing in the path. Unfortunately, it wasn't the man she had been looking for, but a younger man with dark hair and a smile. “Hey,” he called over to her.

She looked at him, startled that he had suddenly popped up like that. “Hi,” was her answer in return. Her shackles were already on high. Was this an angel? Something else?

The man began walking forward. “Nice evening.”

“Yeah,” she replied and started to move in a wide arc around him. “I was just heading back-”

He faced her, eyes turning black. “No, you aren't.”

The pistol was in her hand quickly, but another, one she hadn't seen, grabbed her arm from behind, twisting it quickly to force her to drop the gun before pushing her down to the ground with unheard of strength. Demons. Great.

Catherine pulled out her hunting knife only for her wrist to be stamped down by a black stiletto. Cherry red pedicured nails was a strange look for a demon, Catherine idly thought as she looked up to the smiling red head above her. The other demon was out of her line of sight and seemed to be up to something else, likely something not good.

“Good evening,” the female demon purred with a smile, kneeling down to wrap her perfect hands around the hunter's throat. “The Queen of Hell is here to inquire:... Where's your angel?”


	3. Wings of Silver and Light

It was little wonder why this demon called herself the Queen of Hell. Catherine wasn't sure about the hierarchy, but not all demons were even close to as strong as this on. She was reminded again of this one's strength when her back connected with something cold and solid—concrete wall?—after being thrown around like a rag doll. The angel might have been this powerful, but he wasn't nearly as crazy.

Catherine coughed in a sorry attempt to breathe, but the sound of Abaddon's heels clicking as she moved closer gave the hunter pause about getting up off her back. However, she did open her eyes to see that she was in one of the abandoned buildings she had looked at just a half hour ago to find that angel. Too bad he hadn't been here.

The woman's voice carried rebounded around the room. “Start marking up those windows,” she told the other demon, “We want to get the drop on the angel, not the other way around.”

There was no reply aside from the man running over to the far wall, cutting the palm of his hand with a knife in the process.

Catherine's attention was directed back to the so-called Queen as the woman began to address her instead. “So... you don't know, huh?”

“Not that I don't like demons,” Cat coughed, then responded more clearly, “but I told you everything. Saw him for a few seconds last night then lost him. I don't know where he went.”

“Really. You sure?”

Catherine tried to shift, but found that she couldn't, her movements being hindered by the demon's strength. This wasn't good.

“Because,” Abaddon continued, “you've destroyed several of my brethren, even the stronger ones. I know a great deal about you, Catherine. You have a lead. Tell me where he is.”

Except that was the problem. She didn't have a lead, not a good one, at least. The angel had moved on, probably headed west or something, but anyone could come up with that much. Even so, she refused to speak.

Abaddon knelt down beside the hunter with a little grin and sighed. “He's not the only angel that fell last night,” she calmly spoke. “He's not worth your life. He's not worth my time. There's a lot more out there and I won't lose any sleep over killing my only informant for one little angel. On the other hand, I greatly enjoy torture. So... you can pick.”

Torture didn't sound fun. “I told you,” Catherine answered back. This wouldn't be her first rodeo, but the worst part was that she was telling the truth. It was entirely possible that Abaddon knew that or maybe she was just fishing for details. Selling an angel out to a demon just didn't seem to be right, though... not that it really mattered right now.

“Yeah.” Abaddon smirked down at the hunter and rotated her wrist, forcing Catherine to feel as if her organs were doing the same. She tried desperately not to scream from the pain, because if it actually did attract any help, they would just end up dead. It was always a rule for her, but there wasn't anyone to hear her out here and... that rule didn't always work.

Catherine screwed her eyes shut and arched her shoulders, grunting in an attempt to not scream out. The taste of copper came to her and she wasn't sure if it was because she was biting herself or because blood was coming up through her throat. It felt like the latter, but she couldn't spare a thought on it.

Suddenly, the tension released and Cat caught a few very painful breaths.

“Well?” the demon asked sweetly.

Cat didn't bother opening her eyes that time. She just coughed and turned her head to the side for a moment. After a second, she spoke again, hoarsely. “I told you.”

“All right then,” Abaddon sighed and stood up, moving her wrist in an arc again to only get the same reaction. She supposed that this time she would at least wait until the hunter started to scream while she paced around the woman's body.

Illuminated by only the dusk light, the room suddenly grew brighter as shadows began to elongate and shift positions. Shocked by the change, Abaddon turned back to the far wall where the only sigils there were in the entire room were scribbled on to the windows—as she had said—and her demon was halfway done with the last one when he stopped in a state of awe as he looked to the light source outside.

“The wards-!” Before she could finish her sentence, the other demon began to scream and fall back hard against the floor, scratching and clawing at his eyes. A high pitched shriek pierced through the surrounding area, the glass of the windows shattering inward, then the light was suddenly gone.

Abaddon only had time to notice that her captive was no longer in writhing pain and that her demon lackey was dead with burned sockets where his eyes once were, when the doors of their room crashed open.

Catherine coughed again—definitely spitting up blood—and was able to barely see their new guest through her rapidly fading eyesight. It was him again, the angel, only that he wasn't nearly as roughed up as before and he wore a smile this time upon seeing them. In part, she was thankful the smile didn't reach his eyes.

He stopped walking a few feet away from them while he paused to take in the scene. Dead demon, tortured human, and uh... “I'm sorry. Who are you?” Balthazar asked, pointing to the remaining demon in confusion.

“Abaddon,” she replied with a smirk, “Former Knight of Hell turned Queen.”

Balthazar only squinted at her. “Abaddon... Abaddon. Abaddon...” He looked away for a moment, then back over to her. “Aren't you dead?”

Catherine tried to swallow and force herself to stay awake while Abaddon tilted her head to the side, eyeing the angel up and down. “Balthazar, right?” she inquired. “You're one to talk.”

“I'm everyone's favorite hypocrite, darling,” he smirked back, stepping closer to the pair to position himself between the hunter and demon. To Cat's surprise, Abaddon stepped away as he came closer. “Now,” he continued once happily between the women, “I think it's time for you to leave.”

Abaddon paid his order no mind. “I've been looking for you-”

“I don't care,” he cut her off.

Her smile slipped away and she continued. “You don't understand. I've been looking for you,” she said again slower. “I need your help.”

Balthazar paused for a moment, then scoffed as his grin grew a little larger. “I don't think so, sweetheart.”

 “You don't under-” She stopped talking again as blinding white light radiated from Balthazar.

Catherine, for the second time that evening, screwed her eyes shut again and turned away from the light. Once shaded better, her eyes flickered open to catch his shadow falling against the wall beyond her, the bones of his wings spreading as what feathers remained precariously held on. She didn't have time to think on the sight until a muscle spasm in her lower abdomen forced up more blood into her mouth and she passed out.

“I said,” Balthazar answered back lowly, taking careful steps closer to the demon before him, “no.”

Abaddon stood her ground and visibly hardened her resolve before stepping towards him. “I _need_ your-”

The angel raised his hand and the room was swallowed in light for half of a second. When the light died away, Abaddon was gone—ran away. Balthazar groaned and turned back to the hunter, belatedly realizing that he should have probably told her to close her eyes when he noticed the state she was in. He gave a louder groan and rolled his eyes, moving closer over to her.

“Oh, for Heaven's sake,” he muttered to himself, kneeling down to the woman, carefully picking her up, “Is that your hunting tactic? Pass out and die on top of the enemy? This is the second bloody time.” He continued to grumble as he carried her away, healing her as he walked and leaving the other body where it lay.

* * *

Catherine, once again, jerked awake in a panic. This time, she felt that her panic was justified as the first person she saw was the angel. He had his hands up, backing away from her, likely because her own hands had flown to where she usually kept her gun. Breathing hard, she dared to glance around for her surroundings, noticing that she was on her own porch swing right outside of her house.

She looked back to him. “What happened?”

“I saved your sorry ass is what happened,” he replied with a smile, still slowly backing away.

Catherine took a few more deep breaths while she looked around in a mix of confusion and fear. “You killed Abaddon?”

“No.” He dropped his hands and began to walk down her porch steps. “Crazy bitch got away.”

“You're just leaving?” Cat, without thinking, stood up as the angel stopped and looked back at her in amusement. She was completely lost and he was just going to leave?

He gave a little chuckle in response and kept walking. “Way I hear it, you're out for my neck. Best to keep our distance, ey?”

She blinked at him as he walked further away, even turning his back on her. He knew what she had been up to. He knew where she lived. Why had he saved her, brought her back? She didn't like being used. “Wait!”

As if in utter annoyance, he stopped his walk again, but didn't turn to her. Catherine licked her lips, deciding to ask him on something else last minute. “Balthazar, right?” After a moment, he turned back to her, waiting for her to continue, so she did so. “What happened to your wings?”

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “My wings?”

“I saw them,” she answered before he could keep going. “Not them, but a shadow. They were-... You're hurt.”

Balthazar sent another hollow laugh her way. “Yes, well, falling from Heaven wasn't exactly a graceful dive. More like... being pushed out of a jet really.” She only blinked back at him and he could see an internal battle going on within herself. “At any rate, darling,” he continued, giving her a wink and following his previous path, “I won't be far.”

Her brow creased once his words registered. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she yelled after him but he didn't oblige her with a reply. She gave it another moment, before rushing inside and locking the doors behind her.

The car was still at the river, as far as she knew, and that pistol and knife might as well be lost. Thankfully, she had littered the house with weapons and took another knife from the nearby bookcase, cutting the palm of her hand open. She didn't have a whole lot to go on, but she remembered enough of the sigils that the demon had drawn on the windows. She would have to chance it until she learned more.

Catherine began going around the house as quickly as possible to doodle on the walls, then collected several books to look up any information she could on her current crisis. For now, she pushed aside the thought of looking for more ways to kill angels and instead began her search for Knights of Hell.


	4. Shattered Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I posted chap 3 twice and skipped this one. I apologize, everyone!

Catherine had spent the following day in paranoia. She stayed in her home, not having heard anything from the angel, demons, or this so-called help that Matt was supposedly sending over. Someone had probably gotten to them first.

She had used her time reading up on what she could, finding nothing that could actually be of any real use to her. The Bible didn't have any new information than when she first read through it. There was no information on any sort of hierarchy or leaderships of Hell, even Knights. It was all very tight-knit and she didn't like it. If this was so secret, she probably shouldn't be in the middle of it.

Day began to turn into night and the only angel for miles stood outside of her house, leaning his shoulder against a tree. Abbadon wasn't done, not by a long shot. She had wanted him for some reason and it was just easier to wait by the girl's side than to have her scooped up again like last time. Apparently, the demon thought there was some sort of connection between the two of them.

So, he waited in pale moonlight, trying to remember what it was like so long ago to face off against a Knight of Hell. She was probably much stronger now, but it concerned him to know what she wanted with him.

Everything grew quiet far too quickly for his tastes. The crickets stopped, the wind quit. She was here. Balthazar pushed off of the tree and began to walk towards the house, when he began to sense the demons coming in black smoke.

“I asked nicely,” Abbadon's voice carried across the wind.

He turned just in time for her fist to connect.

* * *

Catherine looked up from her research, having sworn that she had heard something, but the noise had stopped. She rose slowly from the computer and books, grabbing her pistol silently. In a few paces, she made it halfway to the window and stopped again to listen... only there was nothing to listen to. It was far too quiet.

Suddenly, a loud howl of the wind shook the house, breaking the windows and scattering the salt lines. The devil's traps were still in place, but they weren't as numerous as they should have been. Perhaps making a safe room a few years ago would have been a good idea, but she never planned to fight against something like this.

Cat tried to run before being encircled by the black smoke, a couple of them appearing around her. She fired shots at their heads in an attempt to slow them down while trying to run and break free of the remaining smoke. It wasn't long until one of them slammed her against a wall and she fell to the floor.

Now there were four sets of feet in front of her, one of them approaching fast. Once he was close enough, about to do whatever he was about to do—she figured killing her—Catherine sat up quickly to slam the blade that he was about to stab her with into his own abdomen. From the look on its face and the light show just beneath the skin, she knew it had killed the monster.

The other three approached all at once. She yanked the blade out of the first demon and slashed at another's throat.

* * *

Balthazar's back fell hard against rocks lining the edge of a brook. Before he could attempt getting up, Abbadon already had her hold on him, twisting him up like she had done to the hunter the night before, with a hand around his neck and an angel sword to his eyes. To his credit, she was more roughed up than he was, but it didn't matter in this particular moment.

“I need your help,” she said again breathlessly while nearly straddling him, the first words she had spoken since she first ran into him in the night.

His lips pulled up into a smirk. “You mentioned that, dear.” His next words were stopped as she drove the blade into his shoulder. Bal gasped after a second of cringing. “Oh, please,” he breathed, “Whatever is it that you need?”

“Your grace,” she answered him in a smile, “and you're going to give it to me or, so help me, I will take it.”

He only gave a pained laugh to her threat. “And what does a demon need with an angel's grace?”

“You don't like Crowley, right?” she smiled, “I'm going to kill him. I can't do it without your grace.”

“Yes, you can-” Abbadon twisted the blade, making his words come up short again.

“No, I can't!” she growled. “It's stronger if you take it out yourself. No one knows an angel's grace better than the angel. Give it to me or I'll go for silver.”

Balthazar took another deep breath. “You can go to Hell, is what you can do.”

“Fine!” she spat and ripped the blade away from his shoulder. Abbadon reared back to drive the blade into his throat, when she sensed something and turned just in time to stop another blade from entering her ribs.

She parried the second angel blade and telepathically threw Catherine back a few yards. The distraction gave Balthazar the time to push the demon off of him and drive her into the water. “What are you really after, Abby?” he screamed in anger towards her once he was standing again.

Abbadon quickly got back to her feet, staying in the water and watching the angel stalk along the edge closely. “I need Crowley,” she growled, “I need the Winchesters. There's more going on than you think, Balthazar. You've been gone for a long time. It's a whole new world... Now _give it to me_!”

She had started to approach, when she dodged just in time for the angel blade to mar the skin of her cheek. The hunter was on her feet again, pointing her pistol to Abbadon daringly.

“These aren't normal bullets,” Catherine told her levelly, “I'm not that stupid... Now why don't you tell us what's going on?”

“Oh, please... You think I'm _weak_?”

“No,” the hunter answered, looking down to the demon's feet, “You would be screaming by now if you were. I dumped a few gallons of holy water up stream because I knew more of you were out here. That's how I found you two getting playful behind the bushes.”

Abbadon watched as her ankles began to smolder. Soon, that was going to start hurting a whole lot more as the water really rushed in. She looked back up to see them both smirking to her. She just glowered. “I'll be back.”

“No-” Catherine tried to interject, but Abbadon was already gone... She turned to point the gun at Balthazar.

He looked back at her, not really surprised. “I suppose you're expecting a thank you now.”

“What was that?” she asked him. “Why do they want me dead and why does she have a kill list? Who are they?”

Balthazar thought critically for a moment, shifting his jaw as he did so before nodding. “We should go... We have a lot to talk about. First, let's get that blade back, yes? It's quite invaluable.”

He began walking into the stream to retrieve the sword while she looked at him curiously, following him with the sights of her pistol. “Go? If you think you're going into my house, you have another-”  
  
“Not your home,” he interrupted, picking the blade out of the water bed where it had buried itself. “They know where you live. They'll be back, probably tomorrow night. Like I said,” he started walking back to her, ignoring the gun, “we have a lot to talk about.”

* * *

Once he had assured her that the demons wouldn't be coming back that night, she had set him out on the porch and they talked about things she didn't feel like she should know. He told her about Dean and Sam, how they stopped the Apocalypse, how they tried to stop Purgatory. He also told her about the archangels and Castiel, Lucifer and Crowley. It was quite unsettling, though he left out any mention of his death aside from the fact that he had died and was resurrected the night she had found him.

In return, Catherine informed him on any major news she had come across since the year of his supposed death. A lot of it didn't make sense to her, while it somehow made some sense to him. She didn't know about a lot of things that the Winchesters did, including the Leviathan or the tablets, so Balthazar wasn't aware of any of these coming to pass either.

At the end of their discussion, they watched each other from opposite sides of the porch; Balthazar sitting on the swing and studying her curiously, Catherine standing against the railing and watching him for any ill moves.

Finally, he spoke again. “I'm not going to kill you. I won't get anything out of it. I only followed you for information, after all.”

Cat sighed tiredly. “Then why do they keep coming after me?”

“Because I stay around you. Easy way to draw me out,” he answered, “but leaving your side won't work. You pissed off the Queen of Hell, dear. That doesn't come without a price.” Catherine stayed quiet, so he continued. “I need to find Sam and Dean Winchester. From the way she talked, they know where Crowley is. It's the best leverage we got, for the both of us.”

She bit her lip and looked back at him. “I thought you don't like them.”

“I don't,” was his honest answer, “but I feel as if they owe me.” Bal leaned back in the swing and sighed. “Come with me or don't. Either way, you can't stay here.”

She watched him closely for a moment, studying him just as he did to her moments ago. At length, she shifted and looked around, out into the yard and the long driveway past her car. “The morning,” Catherine finally answered. “We'll leave at daylight... I'll mark off the sigils so that you can come in.” With that, she pushed off of the railing and went back inside.

Surprised, Balthazar watched as she left him on the porch, curious as to why she would be willing to let him into her home. He quickly realized that she had no other choice but to trust him now.

 


	5. Companions

Catherine, true to her hunter nature, traveled light. She only needed the one back pack that was sitting on her bed while she stuffed clothes and ammunition into it. It was a little sad that she had to leave the book she had been reading, but she figured she'd live.

“So."

Balthazar was met with facing her hand gun as she whirled around on him. He gave a smile. “Sorry if I startled you, sweetheart.”

Stupid to draw the gun. It was the blade that could kill them... Cat huffed and put away her gun again, keeping an eye on him while she continued packing. “Didn't hear you flap in.”

“Used the door," he replied offhandedly, looking around at the pictures on her wardrobe. She didn't bother to stop him or direct his attention away. Just rolled her eyes and went about her own business again, waiting for him to say something else.

When he didn't, she turned to look at him again to see what all he was up to. Of course, she had very few reasons to trust any angel, especially this one, so while it wasn't wise to willingly hang around one, it was even worse to leave them unattended. At least, that was how she saw it.

Balthazar, though, was still looking at her pictures curiously. "How old are you?" he finally asked, wheeling around to face her again.

In turn, Catherine gave him just as curious look before slowly going back to her business. "Thirty-two," she finally answered, "Why?"

"You look young," he replied, setting a picture back down again. "I thought you were some pre-teen thing waving a gun around, but I can't tell the difference with all of you humans anyway."

She gave a halfhearted chuckle, zipping up the bag. "That would be something. Start talking to a stranger and think it was me."

"Could you imagine their confusion?" he muttered, poking at the fading dry wall in her room. "Are you ready yet? I could have literally been there yesterday."

"If that's true, then where are they?" Catherine threw her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the room, leaving him to follow or do whatever. It was one thing to leave an angel unattended. She figured it was another to try and tell them what to do. She couldn't help already being annoyed with him, though.

With a roll of his eyes, Balthazar just followed after her. "It was a figure of speech." Only half true, but that was his argument. "Do you even have a starting point to find them?"

"No," she answered, stopping outside of the front door. "You know of them, apparently. I was hoping you would."

He stepped out, too, moving to her car with a chuckle and leaving her behind. "Look at us. A human and angel working together to kick the teeth out of more humans and angels. And hopefully demons, too, if we can get our hands on that little shrimp... When did you get your car back?"

"Is that a yes or no?" she muttered to herself, locking the front door and, therefore, the house. That done, she replied louder. "I walked back for it while you were all... doing whatever it was you were doing. Plotting my death or something." Catherine put her bag in the car through the back window with a sigh. "Do you have a lead on these guys or not, angel boy?"

"I was under the impression I possessed a man, but I did call you a pre-teen, so I suppose we're even."

He noticed that Catherine had stopped her unhurried movements to just give him a long, lingering glare of impatience... Fine. "Maybe," Balthazar finally answered, "I haven't been on Earth for a few years, apparently, but it's a start if I ever heard of one."

A few years... Catherine gave a sigh. "It's more than I got. Okay, get in."

"In that?" Balthazar pointed to the car in surprise.

She stopped to give him that same lingering glare again. "Unless you want to fly there, which I've heard isn't working like it used to."

His mouth twisted into a grimace as he looked the car from hood to trunk, then quickly looked up to her. "Can't we walk?"

"How far away is your starting point?"

"I think you people call it South Dakota."

Catherine opened the creaky door of her muscle car and grunted a "Get in" to her guest, who just groaned and got into the car, too.

* * *

Not even an hour onto the road, Balthazar had become impatient and he was hyper-aware of it. Things never took this long and now everything was going to take ages. He might have been around for awhile, but waiting was never a big forte for him. Well, for some things, yes, but not little things like travel.

Well, he did have some entertainment. "What am I supposed to expect?" he asked after a long while of silence. "With all the humans and things, I mean. For goodness sake, moving from one place to the other is going to take bloody ages. What's going to happen next?"

Catherine just gave him a strange look that did not go unnoticed by him. "Aren't you guys supposed to be all powerful and all knowing or something?"

"I apologize if I skipped out on Humans 101 in Bible Camp," he groaned, "All I know was that your night life used to be absolutely lovely, you make very interesting drinks, and you have a wonderful imagination when it comes to sex and I mean  _wonderful_ in every sense of the word."

She glanced from him to the road again, brow furrowed... "I'm... glad you think so."

"Getting from point A to B," he continued on, "is going to take half a century at this rate, but that doesn't include all of our stops in C, D, and E, which I'm sure are bound to happen, am I correct?"

"Sioux Falls is a two day trip," she nodded, "so stopping in C and D are a given. Humans have needs."

“Needs?” Balthazar gave the woman a skeptical look and, after a beat of silence, tried to guess. "Sex?"

"No." Despite the fact that she was driving, Catherine took a second to rub at her eyes. "Food. Sleep. Human stuff. I thought angels knew a lot more about humanity than this."

"We never really cared," he shrugged. "I don't have to eat or sleep."

"I know you don't," she replied tiredly. She was traveling around with an angel; basically trusting the guy. This was so ridiculous and risky, but here she is, talking to the angel like he's a child that knows a little too much about sex and not enough about food.

"No, no." Balthazar straightened up in his seat with renewed purpose. "I mean I could drive while you're asleep. We could get there much quicker."

Catherine wrinkled her brow. "I thought some of the reason I was here was because you didn't know how to drive."

"I could learn." With that, he began reaching over towards her, only to have her block his movements and push his arm back over towards him.

"No touching," she warned in the same tone, "or I'll have to clean angel brains out of these seats."

"Oh, please," he muttered to himself, but upon receiving no comebacks, he settled back into his seat further. "Fine. I hope you enjoy C and D as much as I will."

"Think of it as the scenic route. We'll be there before you know it."

Balthazar grunted in response with crossed arms, looking out of the passenger window again.

 


	6. Je te hais

One would think that traveling with an angel had its own rewards. Catherine thought no such thing. At first, Balthazar was tolerable, if not annoying. He had quickly become agitated that he had to travel with a human and, therefore, agitated Catherine all the more.

Her last two meals consisted of very slow chewing while having a glaring contest with the most intolerable angel in existence.

At first they had talked. Traded a few stories about monster hunting, current events, and the like, but they both grew more annoyed with the other as time grew on, so their time together had been composed of heated silences for the most part.

Needless to say, both Catherine and Balthazar were extremely happy to finally reach Sioux Falls in the early morning and find the fabled salvage yard.

“Finally,” Cat sighed, parking the car along a row of junked automobiles and getting out, more than prepared to hug these Winchester people and dump her angel on them.

Her spirits fell a bit when Balthazar, once also climbing out of the car, looked around the place with a frown and called to her. “Wait.”

Heading in the direction of what looked like an old garage shop, she turned back to him. “What?” then quickly added, “Don't ruin this for me.”

“The house,” he said, pointing to a tree past a row of cars. “It used to peak over this mess.”

Catherine quickly started to jog over in the direction he had gestured in, having no quick comebacks for that one. She stopped short once she found the charred remains of a structure that she could only assume was the house Bal had mentioned. With a tired groan, she rubbed at her eyes.

Balthazar slowly walked around her to take a closer look at the rubble, but it wasn't like he could glean anything from it all. This looked as if it had happened a while ago. He crouched down to pick at a piece of black wood, trying to come to terms with just how long he's been gone for, but his thoughts were broken by Catherine's words and he was thankful for it.

“Do you think they're still in town?”

He looked up to what still stood and back down to the piece in his hand before throwing it to the ground with a sigh. “No,” he answered, straightening back up and turning to look at her as he spoke. “Knowing these boys, this wasn't an accident. They ran away from what was trying to kill them, but this happened well over a year ago. Nature's begun to take it back and I honestly don't think they would stand for it if they were around.”

“Then we ask around,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest, “unless you have another place in mind.”

“Afraid not, love,” Balthazar sighed again, flopping his arms to his side and moving around her to go back to the car. “Not even sure what talking to locals would turn up. Either no one knows or they aren't willing to tell.”

She turned around to follow after him, gradually getting annoyed again, but it wasn't the angel's fault this time. “What else do we do, then? Searching around the property would help, but the trail is over a year old, like you said... Don't you have some sort of way to find people on a spiritual level or something?”

“I would have done that already,” he replied from over his shoulder. “The boys have anti-detection sigils etched into their ribs so that angels won't find them and I can't sense the old man. He could have gotten one, too. Who knows?”

Catherine rubbed the back of her neck in thought. They couldn't very well leave empty handed and waiting for Abbadon to show back up wouldn't be very wise. Balthazar seemed just as trapped as she was, because he simply leaned against the car and crossed his arms instead of getting in.

She stopped a few feet in front of him, looking around the junk heap. “We might as well stay a night in town, anyway,” she finally spoke up. “Asking people might get too much attention, but looking around can't hurt.”

* * *

Catherine was typing away on her laptop when Balthazar sauntered back into their motel room, announcing his presence by a slam of the door. “I've snooped all over the police headquarters and the town hall,” he informs her before falling into a seat across from her on the table. “There's a surprising amount of nothing.”

She grimaced. “Not that surprising. I've searched on every local database there is, but there's nothing about any fire at that salvage yard or anyone by the names Bobby Singer or Sam and Dean Winchester. It's like they weren't here... or-”

“A big cover up.” The angel leaned on to the table, picking at her water bottle. “Do you ever drink liquor?”

At the change of subject, she looked up to him in slight confusion. “I've been driving.”

He just stared back in the same confusion, like she just told him something that was completely irrelevant, so Cat shook her head and drew her attention back to her computer.

“Anyway,” she continued while he just looked back to her water bottle. “I can't say if it's connected or not, but it sounds like there's a job just south of here.”

“You mean your sort of jobs,” Bal half-muttered, leaning back in his seat again with her water, apparently stolen now.

She just twisted her lips and continued skimming the article. “Dad and his kid claim that things are being moved around their home, strange sounds in their walls, a lot of household accidents...”

“Sounds like homicidal mice.”

“Yeah, but the kid claims his dead mother is living in his closet,” she sighed and leaned back in her chair, too, stretching her back.

Balthazar rephrased his earlier deduction. “Homicidal mice and a kid that needs therapy.”

“Maybe,” she straightened up again, “but what if it is a ghost?”

“How would that even help us?” he asked, looking at her through his newly acquired water bottle. “If you were sure this ghost was connected or even if you were sure this was an actual ghost, then you might have something, dear.”

“All right.” Catherine's lips pulled up along the edges as she closed her laptop. “I guess we'll just sit here and... enjoy each other's company.”

She smiled at him while Balthazar peeked his blue eyes over her water bottle in disapproval. It took another minute until he groaned and slouched into his seat. “ _Fine_.”

“You'll need an ID,” Catherine said, immediately standing up and heading towards the door.

“A what?”

* * *

Balthazar followed Catherine outside to see her digging in the trunk of her car. He walked around her to peer in and quickly rolled his eyes at all the sigils and artillery. “You hunters are insane.”

“Please,” she scoffs, digging through a bag of fake ID's. “This is low profile for us.” Finally, she pulls one out of the bottom of the bag that should fit him well enough. At least it was for a male. She had been hunting alone for so long, she was surprised she had any of those left. “Here. Just keep that on you. Your clothes... should do, I guess.”

He took the fake badge and looked down at his usual attire before giving her a look. “My clothing options are fine, thank you,” he scoffed, then looked at his new ID. “I can't believe you lot get away with impersonating federal agents at every turn.”

“It's for a good cause,” Catherine answered him, digging further in the trunk for some decent rock salt bullets for her pistol, just in case. She also dug out another older pistol and handed that over to him. “This, too.”

Balthazar was in the middle of tucking the badge away in his blazer when he gave her a very dumbfounded look. Cat rolled her eyes. “Feds don't go around unarmed. Trust me, I'm not crazy enough to hand an angel a loaded gun.”

With a grimace, he took the unarmed piece with two fingers. “As if it were the worst weapon I've ever held.”

“It's one you don't know how to use,” she muttered back, finally pulling away and closing the trunk. “I can just see you shooting me in the foot before we even get there.”

He grumbled while tucking the gun away, too. “I told you, I'm a fast learner.”

“You are not probing my brain,” she told him for at least the fifth time since their adventure started.

He just gave her a little sarcastic smile with a tilt of his head. “Don't trust me?”

She gave him a glare in return. “Cute.” She then turned away to go back to their room. “Let me change and we'll go.”

“Is it human women or just humans in general that take forever to do anything?” he asked, but received only a glare in reply as she just stopped to look back at him. Instead, he groaned and leaned against the back tire of the Challenger. “I hate you.”

“Hate you, too, sweetie,” she muttered, disappearing back into their room.


	7. Panic

“You look stupid,” Balthazar muttered under his breath as they began approaching a house from where they parked the car by the curb.

Catherine looked down at her business suit with a frown and back over to him. “I didn't realize you were the Holy Fashion Diva,” she muttered back.

“Everyone in Heaven wears those stupid monkey suits,” he began to grumble. “I don't care what people say, they look stupid on everyone.”

“Oh yeah, Mr. Slacks and a Suit Jacket,” Cat whispered once they were under the porch and she rang the doorbell. “I can definitely see your stance on this formal business.”

He just waved down at himself. “This is tasteful. This says I like to party. Your suit jacket says I like to do paper work.”

“Bite me, Choir Boy."

“You're going to have to start coming up with better nicknames, too.”

The door opened to reveal a middle aged man in glasses. He looked between the two of them curiously and asked, “Can I help you?”

“Yes, sir.” Catherine pulled out her fake ID, flipping hers open... After a glance towards Balthazar, he remembered to show off his, too, so she continued while putting her badge away. “I'm Agent Kent; this is Agent Connor. We're here to investigate your case.”

The man gave them both an odd look. “Federal agents are interested in my,” he paused for a moment to find the right word before deciding to use the same one the woman had used, “case?”

Balthazar spoke up with a happy smile before Cat could get a word in. “We specialize in your sort of... cases.”

He looked between the two of them again and shrugged. “Okay, uh. Come in. Come in.” Moving aside, he waved them in. “Living room's on the first right. Can I get you anything?”

Catherine answered him before Balthazar could start again. “No, sir. Thank you.”

Suddenly, there was a whisper in her ear. “Connor and Kent. You couldn't think of something better?”

With a smile, she looked back to the angel before sitting on the sofa. “You caught that reference. Congratulations.”

The man entered the room behind and waved for Balthazar to sit, who took the seat beside the hunter with almost a huff. Once they were all seated, Catherine began. “So, Mr. Hendricks, can you tell us when exactly you noticed things moving around in your home?”

“Ah well,” Hendricks gave a relieved sigh, very willing to talk about his story, “I actually wasn't the first one to notice anything. It was my son, Daniel. He kept talking about the curtains closing on their own a few weeks ago, but I thought he was just acting out or something, until I started seeing, uh... _strange_ things, too.”

“Can you define strange?” Catherine inquired while Balthazar, the most bored angel she believed existed, began poking at something on the end table.

The man being questioned shrugged, trying to think back and not seem insane. “Things were just... moving with no one there. I never really _saw_ anything, but me and my son are the only ones here and, well, rats aren't big enough to move plates or chairs away after you look in a different direction for... a... moment...”

Hendricks' attention was brought to Balthazar, who had found a little ceramic figure of an angel with a wire halo. He was currently trying to jam the halo around the angels neck when he realized he was being watched and stopped with a grin. “Sorry, I just get a kick out of these things,” he explained, earning a confused nod from Mr. Hendricks. “That's supposed to be Gabriel, right?”

“Um,” the man blinked quickly to the ceramic and back again, shifting. “Yes. My wife collected angels before she passed. She revered Gabriel the most, so I kept that one after.”

Despite the heavy subject, Balthazar chuckled and flicked the halo again. “That's adorable.”

Catherine elbowed him in the ribs – earning an _oomf_ as he quickly straightened up – and tried to take back the conversation. “Is there any way that we can speak to your son, Mr. Hendricks?”

Happy to get back to the earlier topic, Hendricks nodded. “I'd love to, but he's at school right now. It'll be another hour until he gets home.”

She nodded. “Well, have you noticed any other strange things around the home? Cold spots in the air? Odd smells?”

“It's been a little colder in the house than usual, but the heater's working fine,” he shrugged. “It's been bugging me, but that's all I know about cold... Is that important?”

“Just going through the list,” she smiled. “One last thing. Do you mind if my partner and I take a look around?”

“Not at all,” he answered again, quite compliant, “The first floor is the basics, the second is the bedrooms. Do you need me to show you around or anything?”

“No, no. We can handle it.” Cat stood as Balthazar watched, realizing belatedly that it was time for him to stand, too. “Thank you. We'll let you know if we need anything.”

Hendricks stood with a smile. “I'll just be in the kitchen then.”

* * *

“Shouldn't the angel go first?” Balthazar asked, following closely behind the hunter wielding her pistol in front of her.

Catherine hardly looked at him, pacing slowly down the upstairs hallway. “As much as I would enjoy tying you to a stick and dangling you out in front of me, we're all better off if you have my back.”

He peeked inside of a room, frowning. “I'm beginning to rethink my life decisions,” he began and Catherine knew it was going to be another whiny monologue. “I only followed you for information on why I'm alive and injured. Now I'm in the middle of some sort of pissing contest with demons who want my grace for God knows what, but who cares? Because I'm out with a human hunting a _ghost_.” Cat rolled her eyes while he kept grumbling. “How the mighty have fallen.”

She bit the inside of her cheek as they slowly began to approach the last door in the hallway. Had to be the kid's room. “Don't you think that hunting a ghost is better than being dead?”

“I don't know,” he sneered, “I didn't have to listen to you and ride shotgun in your car all day.”

“I am so close to shooting you right now.”

He firmly grabbed her shoulder to stop her and Catherine was reminded that she wasn't telling off just any old asshole. This one had incredible power and she wondered if that comment actually pissed him off. Upon quickly turning to face him – or try to run away – she noticed that he wasn't angry but looking up at the ceiling.

“What?” she asked, looking up and seeing nothing but white tiles.

“Sigils.” Balthazar reached up and touched the ceiling tile with the tips of his fingers, with an expression of confusion and thought on his face that Catherine didn't think an angel should wear.

“What kind?” she asked, looking between him and the ceiling. “Wards? Against what? You're already here.”

He shook his head. “No, it's summonings... I can't tell for what, though,” Bal thought aloud and lowered his arm. “They're old, but they're part Enochian. Must be for the ghost.”

“Whoa, whoa. Wait.” Catherine closed her eyes for a second and shook her head. “Enochian? An angel summoned a ghost here?” He just shrugged, still studying the ceiling, so she tried again. “Why?”

“Bored?” he guessed, then looked down to her again. His eyes quickly landed on what was _behind_ Catherine and he noticed that she sensed it the same time he saw it.

She began to turn quickly, but Balthazar was faster and pushed her hard against while his other hand shot out to smite the spirit. The ghost, however, a gray and withered woman wrapped her boney hand around his wrist and pushed against with enough strength to actually stand against him. For a moment, he was too shocked to do anything until a shot rang out and the ghost vanished.

“The sigils!” Catherine barked, before two hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her through the wall before the angel could reach out.

He hesitated for a second, nearly in a panic, but moved his hand towards the ceiling and set it on fire.

Catherine's back, taking a rather nice beating today, hit the floor hard. The glow in the dark stars and planets stuck to the ceiling was enough indication to tell her that she was in the boy's room, which was a terrible place to be in this case.

She began to sit up, but the ghost quickly knocked her back down just in time for her to fire another shot at it. The ghost vanished for a moment right before reappearing on top of her, its leather fingers around her throat.

The ghost yelped, like she was in pain, and quickly drew back from Catherine. It was another force that finally pulled and rolled the thing off of the hunter. Balthazar kneeled over the spirit and pressed his hand to its forehead. In a blast of light and a terrible scream, the ghost was reduced to ash and then nothing.

He panted there, hand still pressed against the floor, before turning to look at Catherine. She looked back to him, breathing hard and a bit shaken, but okay more or less. However, she nearly jumped at a sudden, very loud beeping noise right before she began to smell smoke.

Balthazar looked back to the hallway, then to her and gave a flashy smile. “The sigils are gone.”


	8. A Gentle Strength

Catherine was currently sitting on the edge of the bed in the motel room she had rented in the new town. One hand was balancing an ice pack on her shoulder while the other steadied a glass of whiskey that she very much needed.

That ghost wasn't normal. Nothing about anything on that hunt was normal. Balthazar said it practically _screamed_ of Winchesters due to just the strangeness of the entire thing and it had occurred to her that they perhaps stumbled across a trap meant for them. Set by an angel, though? Eh, anything was possible, that was for sure.

She was looking at her computer set up on the bed, when the door to her room opened and Balthazar's foot closed it back again, with a load in his arms. “I got your bloody books,” he announced gruffly. “Those people in those libraries are near insane with how they- Is that whiskey?”

He changed subjects so quickly that it took her a second to figure out that he was pointing to the glass in her hand. Right. On top of being obnoxious, he's also an alcoholic. She smacked her lips. “Yes, it is. I made a run while you were away.”

“What happened to your driving excuse?” he asked, dumping all of the books on the bed beside her before swiping the bottle off of the end table. He didn't seem concerned with an answer as he began hunting down a glass for himself.

She rolled her shoulder with a huff, just continuing to scroll through the pages on her laptop (which was yielding nothing, by the way). “My back warranted it,” she mumbled darkly to herself, “Including that insane ghost, ancient sigils even an angel hasn't seen before, and setting that man's house on fire... Besides, I'm not driving right now.”

“At least you finally found some spirit,” Balthazar happily said, leaning against the kitchenette counter and pouring a glass. “Find anything on that technology of yours?”

“Nothing that you haven't already told me,” she sighed and then glanced up to him. “Except for one thing... just a little south of here.”

He nearly choked on his first sip. “Another one!?”

“Another _ghost_ ,” she confirmed with a nod. “Since it's so close, it has to be the same thing. Same angel.”

With an exaggerated moan, Balthazar pushed himself off of the counter, walked around Catherine's growing pile of studies, and sat down on the bed beside her. “Those boys left a long time ago. If this was a trap for them, you would think that whoever was doing this knew they weren't here.”

Catherine gave him the quick once over when he got so close to her. That was a new one for him. Balthazar seemed to enjoy keeping the dirty human at arm's length whenever possible, but she shrugged the small change off. “These could have been set a long time ago,” she suggested, “or maybe they aren't traps for the Winchesters. Just... something about the area, maybe.”

“Well, there has to be a pattern to it, assuming it is the same ridiculous creature,” he mumbled to himself and sipped at his drink again. “Are there more of these things around here? Any more of your famous leads?”

“No,” she huffed, taking the ice pack off and waving to the screen. “This one just popped up while I was searching for more information. It definitely wasn't there yesterday.”

“Mmm.” She looked back over to the angel, who was happily savoring his glass of liquor. “I forgot how good you people make these drinks,” he nearly laughed while Cat rolled her eyes. “We should go out and get something fruity.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, hefting up some of the books he brought in onto her lap. “Maybe after we figure out what's going on.”

Balthazar grumbled lowly and finished off his glass with a gulp. “You can be such a bore.” After a moment of her flipping through some pages, he pointed to the computer again. “What is south, anyway?”

She slowly looked up at him. “Other than the ghost?”

He shrugged in return. “If it is an angel that's one step ahead of us, maybe we can just cut the poor bastard off before he hits another town.”

After a minor thought, Catherine snatched up the laptop again to find a map. “Well, we're almost in Nebraska, so they're probably already across the line.” Once the map loaded up, she frowned. “Next town is Sioux City, if they stay on the interstate.”

“Tada.” He smiled to himself and got up again. “I'm going to get another glass to celebrate. You want some more?”

“Celebrate?” Catherine watched him all but saunter back to the counter. “We only have another _maybe_ to find him. We can't ditch this ghost on a _maybe_.”

He took that as a “no” and groaned again. “Well, if it means that much to you, we can always go get the thing tonight.” Balthazar craned his neck to find a clock in the room while he poured another glass. “What time is it?”

“It's 10 p.m.” She was already exhausted from her day as it was. “It'll be at least a two hour drive to get to the ghost, I've been up for twenty hours already, and I don't even know what that unearthly bitch did to my back. Unless you want to go solo, I might just die on you.”

Balthazar stared at her for a moment, placing the bottle of whiskey on the counter with a resounding _thunk_ , before finally pointing to her. “... I can fix that.”

“You'll tangle me into a pretzel,” Catherine glared back in stubborn resignation.

He rolled his eyes as well – a common trend between them – and pushed himself away from the counter to sit beside her again. Balthazar began talking as he would to a fledgling. “For the billionth time. I won't. Hurt you.”

She just continued to glare. “If you won't turn me into a pretzel, then you'll definitely probe my brain.”

“I won't probe your brain!” he groaned with exasperation, and then, “... without permission, of course.”

Catherine just blinked up at him very tiredly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He just gave a deep sigh in return. “Look, I thought that this trip was going to last a few days, at the most... It obviously hasn't.” Despite the fact that he knew Cat was already pinching the bridge of her nose, he still continued. “If we're going to be working together on this – and trust me, I wish we weren't as much as you do – there needs to be some sort of teamwork happening here.”

“I can't believe you're the one telling _me_ this,” she mumbled to herself.

Balthazar persevered. “We need to catch whoever is summoning these ghost things and we need to do so quickly. What's the point of having an angel tag around if you're not going to at least enjoy it once in awhile?”

She almost laughed. “The first time I heard about you guys, it was a mass notice to kill on sight. Enjoying angels seems like a far jump.”

He just glared at her. Of course, she glared back before he spoke again. “I just want to figure out what's going on and I'd rather not have the broken human slowing me down.”

That did it, and he knew it as her eyes narrowed a margin more. “I hate you,” she murmured lowly.

“I know, dear,” he responded with a equally angry smirk.

Yet, he was still nearly shocked when she gave depreciating sigh. “Make it quick before I grow some sense,” she grumbled, rubbing her forehead. “And no brain probing.”

She was actually agreeing to this. Getting around her stubborn attitude felt like more of a victory than it should have been for him. Still, he couldn't act relieved, especially when she wasn't giving in completely. “Fine,” he happily smiled, reaching his hand over to move the one on her forehead. “Second base is close enough.”

Catherine glared again, jaw tightening a breath, before his hand met her skin. She expected something incredible. A big light show or an intense warmth to spread through her. Instead, it was just his warm hand – more gentle and familiar than expected – as all pain and fatigue vanished.

She blinked and, upon opening her eyes in that breath, felt renewed all over again. It seemed that Balthazar knew the effect that it had on her and was slow and gentle with removing his hand. At least, she thought he was, before he opened his mouth again.

“Let's not waste time. You only have so much of it,” he announced as he got up, then added on as an afterthought, “I should have done something about your hair. It's too brown and plain. Maybe some highlights. Don't human women like pink?”

With a groan as nearly half of the fatigue seemed to come back to her, Catherine closed her laptop. “Let's just go.”

“I think you would look great with purple,” he continued on, sipping out of his almost forgotten glass on the counter.

* * *

They sat in her car on the side of the street in the middle of the night, grimacing through the passenger side glass at their destination. A hotel that had been abandoned during renovation.

“Cliché, isn't it?” Catherine sneered, looking at the very unimpressive location.

Balthazar was on the verge of being a very whiny brat as he turned to look at her. “I would ask if we could just come back during the day if I wasn't the one that dragged you out here in the first place.” He looked back at the building, frowning. “Pride and all that.”

“Just remember that this is all your fault,” she sighed, pulling the car out of park and slinking into the hotel's parking lot. There were, thankfully, no police around for the time being. “We'll need to find a way in other than the front door.”

“Of course we need to make things complicated,” he grumbled before getting out of the car.

While he found a back entrance, hopefully one he didn't make, Catherine went to the trunk of the car and armed herself. As much of a pain as it was, fire worked well the last time, so she loaded the shotgun with salt shells and stuffed a few explosive ones in her pocket, along with a cigarette lighter and flashlights. After a moment's thought, she took the angel sword that she lifted off of the demons, too, and stuffed it away.

It took a moment or two to find him, but Balthazar was happy to get on with things once she did. With a touch of his hand that seemed just as gentle as she still too starkly remembered, the glass of a long window shattered to dust. She deftly handed him a flashlight as he climbed in first. It seemed like he was purposely trying to ruin that moment for her.

She climbed in right behind him to find everything swallowed in darkness before both of their light beams came on. Balthazar was back to frowning as he looked around. “See anything other than it just being creepy?”

Catherine huffed and eventually looked up. “Some ghosts haunt certain floors in buildings like this... Let's find the stairs.”

“Oh, yes,” he hissed while following her, “A stairwell is bound to be far less creepy.”

After searching through the bottom floor and the second, coming up with nothing both times, the pair tentatively made their way up to the third story. Catherine's nerves were on high and she knew Balthazar was just as tense as she was, despite that he was very good at hiding it. The angel seldom grew quiet for so long.

He, going first, pressed his forearm against the door to slowly peer through. Cat immediately knew it was the right floor since the rest of the place was in pitch darkness. This floor, for whatever reason, still had its lights on.

She walked in after him, but stopped almost at the same time he did. Yes, it was cold and, yes, there was certainly a smell, but she was far more concerned with the bloody sigils covering every inch of the floors, walls, and ceiling in the hallway. This was not even close to the same as before.

Balthazar followed the patterns with his eyes until he was looking directly up. To Catherine, it was the one spot the blood hadn't touched. To him, it was the original work. “We aren't the first ones to find this,” he quietly breathed, arming his sword quickly and dropping the light. “The angel made the initial markings. Something else did the rest.”

“There's more?” she hissed, tucking away the flashlight to handle her already drawn gun with both hands. “I only know one thing to do sick crap like this.”

“Demons,” he agreed, hovering closer to his human companion for a moment, before slowly stepping further into the hall. He immediately came to a halt when the lights started flickering and the temperature dropped by several degrees.

Neither dared to speak for a long moment until many of the lights in the hallway suddenly began to blow and the floor started shaking. Balthazar drew back closer to Catherine again. “More sigils,” he spoke, not bothering to keep quiet as it knew they were there. “The demons made it stronger.”

The hallway seemed to breathe far away into the darkness. Walls seemed to stretch oblong and the air seemed to be sucked away from them, as if they were in the belly of the beast. Seemed to, because something on this scale couldn't be real without psychological manipulation, Catherine told herself. Even supercharged ghosts couldn't be capable of such a thing.

The shaking was reduced to a low rumble as the air stilled around them again and neither breathed. The time seemed to stretch while their hands tightened around their weapons. Surely they should run, one thought a moment before the other, but running would do no good. Things had to be settled.

Just as Balthazar was about to take the opportunity to just set the whole place ablaze, a frozen wind began to soar far off down the hallway, taking out what lights were left in its path in showers of sparks. It wasn't wind, Catherine knew and she cocked her gun. Before she could get any sort of aim, Bal had already moved in front of her, hand raised to the invisible force.

“Shut your eyes!”

She quickly did so and turned her head away, but the blinding light made it almost seem like her eyes weren't closed at all. The brightness didn't bother her as much as how quickly it faded away. Catherine looked up again just in time for the gust to knock them both against the wall so hard that the air was sapped from their lungs.


	9. Deafening

He hadn't expected that, for whatever reason. The ghost from before had grabbed him with enough strength to push him away, so why hadn't he expected this being to render him useless, too? If he was at full power, this sort of thing wouldn't be a problem. But he couldn't exactly waste the entire building, could he? Maybe he should have taken her original advice and came alone.

Through the half-conscious daze, he tried to remind himself that she was useful. She had information, transportation, more detailed knowledge, and his back while fighting against something like this. Yet, how he wishes that he should have come alone and just left her in Sioux Falls. It wasn't really riding around in the car, being weighed down with a human partner, or even the snappy little arguments between them. He liked the arguments, really, and that was part of the problem.

In all honesty, he liked her. Which was fine and all, really. Castiel seemed to like Sam and Dean an awful lot before he went nuts. While probably not healthy, he didn't find too many problems with that besides the whole Apocalypse thing. He didn't care for going anywhere beyond just _liking_ her, though. He wasn't completely human, so while connections like that weren't easy to create, they did mean more as time went on. Liking was fine, but he didn't want to actually care. Last time he did that, he was literally back stabbed for it.

The world seemed to slow through his hazy vision as Balthazar pressed a hand against the floor to try and raise himself up again. The high pitched screech of the ghost seemed very low and very far away even as the shriek rose higher and higher around them. He reiterated over his earlier thought process. Perhaps she was more useful than not to have tagging along, because the only thing that he could actually pick out of the world again was her voice.

“Move!”

Reality snapped back into place and he ran left, noticing slightly too late that she had gone right. The following gust from their specter friend left a crater in the wall they had just been thrown against, so doubling back was out of the question, especially as he was sure it was following after him. Terrific. Separated from his little, mortal hero. He idly thought that this was probably going to be another one of those painful experiences as he quickly rounded another a corner through the twisting hallways.

Catherine was running, too, but took the next corner sharply to to lean against the wall and risk a look back. Of course, it was only darkness. And silence. Way too much silence. The hotel wasn't that large, not too mention vacant. She should at least hear Balthazar's feet somewhere, but the silence was quite deafening.

Which meant that the ghost must have followed after her.

She unsheathed the angel sword, armed with both it and the gun as she looked back again. The darkness felt just as enclosing as the silence, but she didn't dare risk the flashlight. It would just use her sight against her.

Catherine turned and attempted to progress further down the hall when she finally did hear a sound. It was a tapping – like scurrying feet. Rats? She watched for where she assumed the sound was coming from, thankful that her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, but still failed to see anything. Yet, the sounds were getting closer. So much so, that she felt herself backing away.

A face – a body clearly appeared out of the darkness with a scream and lunged for her. On reflex, Catherine swept the blade at it inches away from her face, the ghost vanishing in a flash of light before her. Through the panic, she couldn't tell its features or even if it was male or female, but it didn't matter as another lunged for her and she shot it.

Balthazar's head snapped around, nearly on the other side of the building, from hearing the loud gunshot. He was thankful to her once again for breaking the silence, but had to wonder what she was shooting at if the thing was after _him_. “Catherine!”

The wind whistled next to his ear and he ducked just in time for long claw marks to run deep into the wall behind him rather than his face. He couldn't see it, but Balthazar extended his hand to where the ghost should be and found it. The ghost burned to ashes in a bright light. Yet, he still got to his feet and ran in the general direction of the gunshot. He was beginning to get the feeling that that wasn't the only ghost.

Catherine, meanwhile, was heading to where she had heard his voice, slashing through ghosts as they appeared to try and stop her. They were right behind her, right on her heels, and she knew as well as they did that ghosts didn't need to chase down anything. Well, conventional ghosts didn't. She let off a few more shots, at least trying to clear them away so that they didn't continue to grab her. It was a miracle they hadn't pulled her to the floor already and finished it. Her earlier thought of rats felt very accurate when considering the same amount of congestion.

She passed by another corner and the ghosts fell away from her. In confusion, she turned to look back as she ran, before running into something that darted out of the hallway adjacent to her path. More like someone. In an “ _oomph_ ” and a tangled whirlwind, Catherine found that her back had been pressed against the floor with Balthazar lying on top of her. Honestly, he was better than a blood lusting ghost.

He looked shocked to say the least, before his eyes darted to the angel blades beside her head, each of them gripping one. “Well, that could have been dangerous,” he commented, before hearing the skittering and looking over in that direction.

“Run.” Catherine already started trying to wiggle out from underneath him. “Run. Run!”

Taking her word for it, Balthazar got to his feet and pulled Cat up by her arm. He shoved her in front of him and they began running again from the skittering noises. “Next left goes to the stairwell,” he helpfully mentioned, risking a glance behind them to see a whole lot of nothing following.

His footing wasn't nearly as sure as before, causing him to guess that the building was doing that shaking trick again. The ghosts didn't want them leaving, especially as they turned down the path he indicated. It was then that they both started hearing something much, much louder than little skitterings against the floor. The walls began to cave in behind their feet, the floor and ceiling ripping away like paper, trying to trap the two of them. Despite the fact he _knew_ that the commotion had to be destroying the sigils in the hallway, it certainly wasn't slowing down the ghosts any.

Catherine made it to the door, but glanced back to Balthazar instead of barreling through it. After all, if the ghosts were this powerful, the stairs wouldn't be a good place to be. However, she was forced to pause as he turned back to the destruction behind them. “Bal!”

She attempted to reach out to him, but Balthazar raised his arm against the torrent of wind and wood splinters trying to catch up to them. There was a beat of a pause as the ghosts rushed toward them that Catherine filled by screaming out his name again. “Balthazar!” He took in a breath and set a fire against the remaining walls that rushed towards the sigils and tornado of spirits.

The entire story erupted in screams, but the ghosts weren't stopping. Just as before, destroying the sigils only weakened them. A bright light began to radiate from him when the floor started to cave beneath both of their feet. Not really thinking on her actions, Catherine dropped her weapons and moved for Balthazar.

The ghosts were too close and the fire was out of his control already, so he grabbed Catherine to pull her against him and purposely fell back as the story finally gave away around them.

It all happened so incredibly fast. Cat just felt the unending falling and closed her eyes as she held him like a lifeline. Again, the light penetrated her closed eyes and she knew they were at least going to survive.

They landed on the floor once again and the first thing she noticed was that Balthazar was out of breath, eyes closed like he was in pain. He was an angel. That was definitely not right. Catherine quickly leaned off of him. “Hey? Bal?”

He opened his eyes again, but looked past her worried face to something above them. She turned to find the ceiling in perfect order as if they hadn't just fall through it... and then she realized they were back on the first floor.

Balthazar cleared his throat and she looked back to him while he put a hand to his forehead. “I might have used a little too much juice that time.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “You're an angel. You're supposed to have a ton of juice.” Catherine got off of him as he moved to sit up, catching his breath.

“Yeah, well. The fall didn't just clip my wings.” It took her a second to realize he wasn't talking about the fall they had just gone through. He was a bit reluctant to admit this part, but it kind of had to be said now. “I'm disconnected from Heaven. I'm not... exactly what I used to be.”

He looked at her and she just stared back. Honestly, Balthazar wasn't sure which part was giving her so many comprehending problems until she finally spoke. “Did you know before you set that floor on fire?”

Ah. He opened his mouth and blinked back at her, assuming she was referring to that moment when nothing happened and they nearly died. “... I don't see how that has any relevance.”

That seemed to make her a tad angry. “We could have died!”

“You were right next to the stairwell!” he argued. “It might not have been a very nice place, but you would have been fine.”

“What about you?” she screamed back, not entirely liking where this was going.

He paused for a moment, also not liking where this was going. It wasn't her fault, honestly. He did it. Still, he managed a shrug. “I lived.”

Catherine was speechless. Yes, it was a selfless act that could have saved her, but she still really really didn't like it at all and if she could just find the right words, she would start screaming at him properly.

Instead, he put a hand up to try and stop her. “Instead of getting angry about it, perhaps you should thank me.”

“Thank you?” she spat out. He could have died right in front of her and he wanted a thank you?

Apparently satisfied with her response, he just nodded. “You're welcome.”

Catherine's jaw clenched as she finally shut her mouth and shot him a glare. She was about to say something else, when she noticed something past him.

Considering they were being chased by a ton of ghosts not ten minutes before, Balthazar turned quickly to see what she was looking at. He actually calmed at the sight of flames licking across a few of the ceiling tiles. A bell began going off somewhere in the building as the sprinkler system cut on and he turned back to look at her. “I may have forgotten about the fire bit,” he spoke over the alarms, “Again.”

She blinked tiredly at the fire, remembering that she hadn't slept in at least a full twenty-four hours. “We should probably go,” she said, raising up and spotting both angel swords, her shotgun, and one flashlight on the floor a few feet away from them.

Once he stood up, she had already gotten her two weapons and began walking out of the building. If that was the famous silent treatment, it was annoying. He just grabbed up his sword and her flashlight, pocketing both before following her out and realizing that she had only just stopped right outside of the building. Curious, he stopped beside her, hoping this wasn't going to be a lecture or something.

Catherine stood there for a moment feeling very wet, rushed, and tired. “Do you want to drive?” she finally spat out.

_Extremely_ curious, he raised an eyebrow and turned to face her. “I know you got roughed up by those things, but I didn't realize they switched you out with someone that has less security issues.”

She shot him a look before giving the same one to the hotel. It didn't pass him that she was trying to not make eye contact. “I'm tired, soaking wet, a little rushed since the cops and whatever else is speeding over here right now. I mean, this is...” Ugh. She looked around him, knowing that he was smirking his little face off. “Consider this as me... trusting you.”

“I knew you could be sweet if you tried, darling,” he smirked some more while she rolled her eyes. Recalling that she did say people were hurrying their way at the moment, he took the chance to lean closer and... lightly touch two fingers to her temple. He almost kissed her on the forehead just to annoy her some more, but that would likely end up bothering him more often than not.

Her eyes fluttered closed again and she breathed in a light breath, while he took away what small bit of information he needed and no more. Never before had it been so tempting to skim just a little further across the surface, but he let go of the mental connection for both of their sakes after fixing her up a bit.

She opened her eyes again to find the smirk gone and replaced by an entirely different look. However, by the time she realized that her scrapes were gone and that they were both dry again, he was back to all smiles. “I believe you have the keys, dear.”

 


	10. It's a Wonderful Life

They had driven through the night in order to catch the angel causing the ghosts. True to her word, Catherine had let Balthazar drive, and she even fell asleep at some point after his annoying insistence on the matter. His abilities might have worked for her stamina, but it wouldn't do much with her mental state. He could hardly handle a sane Catherine; he didn't need a crazy one.

It was currently raining as Balthazar drove. As much as he didn't like traveling to get where one needed to go, he at least could grant that it gave one time to think. Then again, he reasoned, there wasn't much to think about, right? Tonight, they'll find their angel friend, beat the crap out of him until he tells them where the Winchesters are (because after all of this, he better know), then go to the those brothers, demand to see Crowley, get answers... On the other hand, there was a lot of work ahead of them, wasn't there? He sighed to himself. How much longer would this last?

He braved a quick glance over to his sleeping passenger and sighed again. It had already lasted too long.

The car passed the first city limits sign, so he figured it was time for her to wake up. How long were humans supposed to rest for, anyway? “Catherine.”

After a quiet pause, he looked over to her again. She hadn't even shifted... Balthazar looked back to the road and smirked, before he quickly reached over and grabbed her arm. With a little jump and a yelp, she was awake and his hands were back on the steering wheel like nothing happened.

“Oh good. You're awake,” he smirked. Catherine blinked around at their surroundings, trying to figure what jolted her awake so fast and having a feeling it was the angel. Balthazar just continued. “We've entered city limits. Thought you'd like to be awake for our host.”

She wiped at her eyes and tried to get her bearings again, momentarily taken aback that Balthazar was driving until she remembered the previous day... or days. It had been awhile since she slept and that wasn't exactly a great nap. Still, she remembered his arguing that she take it anyway, so she wasn't going to complain. Instead, she looked around at the signs.

“Hopefully,” she said in mid-yawn. “I mean, we still might be behind them.”

Bal's eyebrow twitched. “I will not tolerate pessimism in this vehicle, young lady.”

Right. Being too hopeful was a bad thing in this business, but she wasn't about to tell him that so bluntly. Instead, she actually smiled and gave a little chuckle. “Did you forget who's car this is, already?”

“It's your memories driving this thing,” he motioned to her. “I'd like to think it's more of a joint ownership.”

She rolled her eyes, but kept smiling. “I can't even remember the last time someone else has driven this car.”

“What about that lad in those pictures back in your bedroom?” He didn't really know where the thought came from. He had only glanced at them while waiting for her. It hadn't even really occurred to him before that moment, yet he thought to bring it up anyway.

Then Catherine gave him a strange look that nearly wiped away that smile and his resolve hardened on the subject.

Balthazar shrugged. “You saw me looking at them. I didn't know it was a secret.”

“No, no. It's not-” She paused, still trying to wake up when that bombshell was dropped on her. “Just came out of nowhere from you... But no, you're probably right. I imagine he was the last one. I hope you feel honored.”

“Oh, I do,” he smirked with a clench of his jaw. “Terribly so.” Against his new nagging in the back of his mind, Balthazar dropped the subject.

* * *

He followed Catherine's directions until they arrived at what she assumed to be the most cliché place a haunting would occur and the only place she figured their angel friend would summon a ghost. Upon their arrival, he looked at their location in distaste and didn't move to get out of the car. “A sawmill,” he groaned.

“An _abandoned_ sawmill,” Cat corrected. “It's perfect. I don't think they would have passed it up.”

He turned to look at her, but she was already moving to get out of the car. “Catherine.” He quickly followed her out while she was already opening the trunk. “Wait a minute, what if this hunch is wrong?”

“Do you have a better idea? We can't really wait for them to make the first move,” she replied while putting a few salt shells in her shotgun. “If we're wrong then no harm done. We'll just have to do things the old fashioned way again. Besides, if you had an angel radar, I think you should have told me by now.”

At a loss, he just groaned again. “Well...” She wasn't going to like this and he knew it, but he decided to try it anyway. “Maybe I should go in and check it out first.”

Catherine hardly paused in getting her things together, but she did shoot him a look. “And what will you do if the angel is in there? Handle it by yourself?”

“Yes.” He still knew she wouldn't go for it.

After a moment of staring at him, she eventually tilted her head to the side. “Nah.” While he groaned again like a child, she took up the angel blade and closed the trunk. “I saved your ass against a ghost, remember?”

“That was the first time,” he argued, “I saved yours the second. And besides, you don't have any experience against hostile angels.”

“Well, I know they like the throw people against their own vehicles,” she argued back, moving around him. “So long as we leave the car outside, we should be fine, right?”

“Cute,” he growled. He did do that, didn't he? Balthazar had forgotten all about it. Aggravated, he ran after her.

She continued on, “The little human doesn't need to be coddled.” She was still not over his near sacrifice at the hotel.

“I'm not _coddling_ ,” Bal grumbled, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder. “I don't want the _little human_ slowing me down.”

She shrugged, effectively removing his hand in the process. “All right. Then, we'll split up.”

“No!” he nearly barked. This was getting tiring and he never really had that great of an argument to begin with. From the look she shot him, he could tell Catherine felt more or less the same. He still endeavored to try, though. “That worked out _so well_ last time.”

“Balthazar.” She managed to quite him in one breath, so Catherine took the opportunity. “We're both here. We're both in this together, so we need to work together. You're the one that told me that.”

“That's when it was against a ghost,” he argued back again, albeit much quieter than his earlier tempo. “Angels are a lot worse than _ghosts_. Even that thing at that dilapidated hotel. Whatever is going on, I'm at the center of it. Not you. I should be the one to handle whatever this mess is.”

“I'm here, because I need to be,” she hissed at him. “I pissed off the Queen of Hell, in case you've forgotten. I don't have a choice.” He grew silent again and she knew that she said the wrong thing. He had been doing that to her since they started out on their journey, so she tried her hardest to shrug it away while turning her back on him. “Let's just find that stupid angel.”

Balthazar watched her walk away from him for a moment, before flicking out his own angel sword, setting his jaw, and following her again until he shoved pass her. “I'm still going in first.”

* * *

And so, Balthazar went into the building first, true to his word. Catherine stayed right behind him, though, whether he approved of her being there or not. She was partly there to just be stubborn, but she also didn't want him getting hurt because he wanted to go in alone. She was human, not helpless and useless.

It didn't help that he was also being stubborn over the issue. He could at least admit to himself that, no, he did not want her getting hurt. The biggest reason for which is that it would be on his watch if she did so. He was an angel and he couldn't stop one human from getting hurt? That was quite the burn he would have to listen to for eternities hence. Of course, the other reason was that he didn't really have anyone in his inner circle anymore. That had been dwindled down to Castiel and, well... He was never one to talk to himself, so he did enjoy talking – or arguing – with Catherine quite a bit.

So when Balthazar opened another door to reveal a room actually devoted to cutting apart logs, he quickly began to backtrack. “If the bloody thing's in there, it can stay in there,” he grumbled.

Catherine shined her flashlight across the room, glistening across all of the razor sharp blades. Her reaction was more of a grimace. “If it was in here, we'd know... Right?”

As she looked back to him, Balthazar took the opportunity to close the door back. “Don't you people have those ESPN detectors or something to find these things?”

“EMF,” she corrected with a huff, “But we're not looking for a ghost.”

He rolled his eyes and turned back the way they came. “Of course not-” Balthazar stopped when he noticed his path blocked by several ghosts, all standing in a row and looking at the pair. Upon registering that they had been noticed, they began screaming before Catherine could even shoot at them.

They both tried to run into the room behind them, but the ghosts threw in a different direction before they were able. They're backs hit the doors that fell open with their weight and now they were both on the ground of what seemed to be a loading bay or something. Catherine was more concerned with her current problem than to really take a look around, but once she sat up again, she realized that the ghosts were not entering the room and were instead staying close to the outside of the doors.

This was when, in a near panic, she thought to take a look at her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was that her gun was now gone, perhaps slung somewhere else by their attackers. Next, she noticed that her clothes had been scuffed up with something red and, upon further inspection, realized it was the same stuff that was drawn across the floors of their new room with a small, empty circle in the middle that she assumed were the angel's sigils. They were too late.

Balthazar had come to the same realization. Blood was everywhere. Not only were they behind the angels, but the demons as well. It didn't make him feel any better to think that the ghosts that were strong enough to throw and trap them in this room were not planning on entering themselves.

The thought vanished when Catherine, out of the corner of his eye, ran over to him with her own angel sword at the ready. He quickly turned to find a glowing eyed, nearly skeletal version of a ghost that was interrupted in attacking him by his, once again, savior. The ghost threw the hunter back before he could even thrust his sword to it. Wounded, but not done, the ghost vanished as Balthazar stood again.

Hearing a yelp from behind, he turned to find that the ghost was targeting Catherine now and had just disarmed her. “The sigils!” she screamed back to him before he could even think about going to help her. She seemed to think being a distraction was a _good_ thing, but only made him curse to himself.

The ghost didn't seem as powerful as the previous one and she noted that they had probably at least interrupted the demons. However, she didn't have any weapons and failed to really calculate how fast the being was and was hit from the side before she could gather her senses.

Balthazar, who just wanted this over very quickly, turned back to the sigils on the floor and lit the outer ring as it burned through the markings in a quick inferno. The fire engulfed the room until a wave of his hand put it out, only leaving the marks of the blood behind.

Catherine, however, fell to the ground.

He turned towards her, realizing that the ghost had already gone in the blast of fire, but also noticed that Cat was making no moves to get back up again. The fire hadn't gotten her, he knew it hadn't, but he still ran over to her quickly to find a great deal of blood and her gasping for air.

“What-?” What happened didn't matter. Fixing her mattered, so he put a hand to her forehead and the other against her strange, deep wound.

Catherine took in a deep breath to speak, not bothering with conserving her energy at this point. “Ghost. It... I don't know... struck me.” Breathing hurt, though. Talking, even more so. She wasn't entirely good at judging how bad it was in the moment, but from how much red she seen earlier and the pained look of worry on Balthazar's face when he arrived next to her was enough of an indicator. Well, if she had stayed at the car, she resolved with herself, then he would just be in this situation instead of her.

Balthazar didn't seem to have been listening to her explanation, as he looked between his hands. The one on her head did nothing, the other only managed to get more blood on it. He had healed her scrapes earlier. Could he not heal a fatal wound even a little bit? Just buy time until he could figure out a better plan? Was he _that_ disconnected from Heaven that he couldn't do this much? He resolved to try again, this time with a few rushed prayers to whoever was upstairs to lend him just a little bit of power. He had lost too many already and, while he only knew this human for a short time, he had grown fond of her and wasn't entirely ready to let her go just yet.

Before he could think up the first prayer, she was already muttering again and her words actually made him stop and listen this time. “It's okay,” she quietly told him. It was kind saddening to watch him struggle to save her for someone with so much power. “Hunters...” She paused to get in another harsh breath, but things were already seeming very far off anyway. “We don't usually... live all that long anyway... It's okay...” Balthazar was frozen and could do nothing but look down at her, so she tried again. “You're an angel,” she smiled, making herself cough in the process of that small twitch, but regained her breath again quickly enough. “You'll be fine... jackass...”

He still didn't make a move, ignoring a bright light moving behind the door. It was all he could do to look down upon her, while she tried to keep those few last breaths. She was mortal in a dangerous situation, yet this seemed like such a shock to him and even while thinking on how confusing of a thing that was, he figured that he should say something, anything, before she was gone. “That's not fair,” was all he found himself saying as he realized that she probably thought he was only responding to her comment and not to the entire last few days at large. He also realized that it was less her that he was talking to and more of his Father...

The door opened, the light pouring into the room and across the markings on the floor, Balthazar's shadow even stretching to the far wall. Not at all feeling threatened and still far too shocked, it took him a moment to even glance to what was approaching them. Catherine watched it, the light being the only thing she was able to see with the rest of the world growing so dark. It stopped on her other side, Bal keeping a close eye on it, as it moved his hand away and touched her.

His attention left the light that began to quickly grow dimmer and was drawn to Catherine again as she slipped into unconsciousness and her wounds healed, blood vanishing and breathing finally evening out to a steady pace again. Baffled, he looked over to the visitor who was no longer glowing bright, but instead just smiling as he removed his hand from the woman. Balthazar blinked at him for a moment. “... Gabriel?”

“Now, _that_ ,” Gabriel chuckled, pointing to Catherine, “could have been bad.”


	11. One Step Forward

Balthazar carried the unconscious hunter over to a bed. He had taken the liberty of getting a room with her money, but Catherine's possible annoyance on that situation was not even an issue for him right now. He just gently laid her down and looked back up to Gabriel, who was leaning against the wall with a little bag of gummy worms. Bal glared. “If I knew you wouldn't turn me into dust, I'd punch you."

Finally, he felt safe enough to actually talk. Or, rather, he felt that Catherine was safe enough.

Gabriel just smiled back. “Even then, you still wouldn't. I saved your girlfriend, remember?”

He didn't bother to correct the remark or glance to her, before Balthazar straightened up and moved closer to his elder brother. “You summoned those ghosts.”

“Maybe.” Gabriel took a bite of his candy, allowing Balthazar to lead their conversation. It was better that way.

And lead he did, getting gradually more and more annoyed. “Were you actually that bored? Was that really the best thing you could do with your time? Really?”

“Yes,” the archangel smugly replied, moving off of the wall and planting himself in a chair at the table. Once he was done licking his fingers and Balthazar hadn't ran on, he continued. “It was the best way of doing things without revealing myself. I'm supposed to be dead, you know.”

“Revealing yourself,” Balthazar scoffed. “So, what? You've been in hiding this entire bloody time?” Probably not and he knew it. However, this was a better way of getting questions answered from someone like Gabriel, who preferred to have as many cards up his sleeve as possible.

“Oh, no. Luci shish kabob'd my ass,” Gabe shook his head and smirked again, “Just like Castiel shanked yours.”

Already, his tactic had backfired in his face. Of course. Bal shifted. “What do you mean? How do you know that?”

“Just because I can't fly doesn't mean I'm blind. I can see you,” he pointed to the younger angel, “The scar's still there.” Balthazar brought a hand to his chest before looking back to Gabriel, who just smiled. “I've always liked those zombie movies. Especially that Thriller thing. You remember that?”

“We are not zombies,” Bal sighed.

“Well, what else would you call us? Lazaruses? … Lazuri?”

“Okay, stop.” the younger angel put a hand to his head and rubbed his eyes for a moment. “Let's just... go back. If you didn't want to be revealed, then why did you show yourself?”

He raised an eyebrow and crossed his legs. “Balthazar,” he said in a mock tone, “Are you not thankful?”

Now this was something he really _didn't_ want to admit, so Balthazar just groaned in response to the direct question. “If you really wanted to hide, I don't think that one human's life would have swayed that decision on your part.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Gabriel shrugged one shoulder and pursed his lips together. “If she did die, I have a good feeling that you would have veered off your righteous path of hunting up those two knuckleheads and we can't have that.”

Wait... “You know-... Of course you know about that.”

“Did it ever occur to you,” Gabriel leaned against the chair, “that the ghosts were actually leading you somewhere?”

Ah. Now things were getting a little bit clearer. Sort of. Balthazar sighed. “You didn't think to leave a note?”

“Incognito, remember?” He took a bite out of another piece of candy before continuing. “Though, I mean, the ghosts were supposed to be challenging, but not deadly. When I found out my stuff was getting tampered with, I started heading back the way I came. You guys showed up right after I smoked the demons, but you didn't really give me enough time to clean up after them.”

Well, that did explain a few details, but not even close to the big picture, so Balthazar decided to just come out with it. “Why did it interest you so much that we find the Winchesters?”

At that, Gabriel tapped his nose and pointed back to the younger angel with a big grin. “Million dollar question, ain't it?”

“I wouldn't know,” he just grumbled back, “I'm still trying to figure out what the hell is going on.”

Gabe just shrugged and leaned back in his seat again. “It's not those bozos I want you to get to, though. It's Crowley. Just... trying to help you do exactly what you wanted to do really.”

“I was going to ask _him_ what the hell is going on,” Balthazar argued, getting more and more agitated.

Especially as Gabriel nodded. “Exactly.”

“You don't know.” Bal sighed and rubbed his forehead before leaning against the wall as his brother had done earlier. “That doesn't explain why you're so interested.”

“ _Please_ ,” his brother huffed, “Do you really think Abbadon wants the grace of an angel to kill one ego-centric crossroads demon?”

“Unless something really major happened while I was gone, which is entirely possible,” Bal groaned, running his hand along his face and actually feeling quite tired, “I'm going to have to say no.”

Gabe just raised his free hand. “And I want to know why. That's all.”

“If you want to know why, then it must be something bad.”

The elder scoffed and raised from the chair again. “There's a billion things a Knight of Hell can do with an angel's grace, okay? I'm just doing damage control.”

Balthazar gave a loose smile to that. “What do you  _really_ think she wants, Gabriel?”

“She probably just wants to jump your vessel's bones,” he answered, beginning to chew on another gummy worm.

Right. He wasn't going to get any answers from this and he knew it. Likely, Gabriel probably just didn't know and didn't want to admit it. At least, he hoped that was the reason or this really was a bad deal. “After the fall, an angel's power is weaker,” he sighed again, “It's going to be easy for Abbadon.”

“Ehhhh.” Gabriel shifted and tilted his head. “That's kinda why she honed in on you, bro. Not everyone got the short end of the stick.”

… Balthazar leaned off of the wall and squared his shoulders at this accusation. “Excuse me?”

“Your wings got seared off,” he said, motioning to the other, “That only takes away flight, not everything else. Why did you think I had to do such a light show to bring one person back to life?” The other only had enough time to look back to Catherine before Gabriel answered for him. “We're _dead_ , Balthazar. Zombies. Or at least, we were. Heaven hasn't gotten the memo that we're back yet.”

He looked back to the archangel, genuinely concerned about this turn of events. “ _Heaven_ doesn't know that we're- Not the people up there, but  _Heaven_ itself.”

Gabriel just nodded. “It'll catch the hint as more of us pop up, but for now? You just got whatever goods you came in with and no more. Looks like you went and used most of that up already... Well, I say most. Takes a lot of juice to bring someone back to life.”

“She wasn't dead!”

Catherine groaned and stirred in her sleep from the outburst, but didn't wake.

The movement had drawn both angels' attention, but Balthazar was the one to shift in place and force himself to calm. Gabriel only bit at his candy with a smirk, opting wisely to not say what was on his mind.

Bal let out a long breath before finally turning his attention to Gabriel again. “Where are Sam and Dean?”

“Lebanon, Kansas,” he answered back, happy to get back to business for a change. “It's kinda hidden, but you'll be able to find it. I'll draw a path.”

“Not with more ghosts, I hope,” Balthazar muttered, but continued before there were any comebacks. “What do you want out of Crowley and how do I find you again?”

Gabriel just smirked wider. “You don't. Just ask ye ol' king whatever you were already gonna ask him and that'll be that. I'll know what he told you.”

At that, Balthazar furrowed his brow. “How?” he growled.

“Don't worry,” was the chuckled response, “I'll know by your retaliations.”

He hated this. Gabriel had a lot of ideas of what Abbadon was planning and he wasn't giving up any of them. Not that Balthazar could really do anything about it. The only reason the archangel hadn't down something about his younger brother's attitude was because he was being a willing pawn. Thankfully, Gabriel had been one of the better ones before he left Heaven, so there weren't too many qualms about helping him out, but he would like to know what he was aiding in exactly.

Instead of going down another path of conversation that would lead to dead ends, Balthazar glanced back to the sleeping Catherine again. “When will she wake up?”

“Whenever she starts feeling better,” Gabriel answered, balling up his now empty plastic bag and tossing it into a garbage bin behind his Bal. “I'm sure it'll be any day now,” he smiled, pushing himself from the wall and going to the door.

Balthazar, nearly alarmed, watched after him. “Where are- You're leaving _now_?”

“I finished my candy,” Gabe shrugged back, opening the door. “I'll be in touch. Maybe. Hopefully not... Been a hoot, bro.” Gabriel left with a wave. At least he had the foresight to quietly close the door behind him.

* * *

Catherine stirred again, but her eyes opened this time due to the sound of rain. What she found was a small motel room with Balthazar leaning against the window frame and watching the weather outside. Aside from his solemn look, it appeared as normal as the last few days have been, until her memories of the last time she was awake came back to her. After blinking for a moment, she began to sit up.

Hearing her movements, Balthazar was next to her in a second. “How do you feel?”

A little shocked that he had already moved, she looked up to him before swinging her feet to the floor. “I feel...” That was actually a hard question to answer in the moment. “Alive... What happened?”

He stood there for a second to make sure she was steady and to process her question, before giving one of his annoyed smiles. “My brother happened.”

“The angel?” At this, she became wide awake and full of questions. The angel they had been hunting saved her?

“Gabriel,” Balthazar growled out, sitting down on the bed across from hers and pointing to the door. “He just left a few hours ago.”

Catherine quickly turned to the door before looking back at him again. “The... archangel?”

“He had been leading us to the Winchesters,” he said, propping his chin up with his arm. “And he took care of the demons, of course. He wants us to speak to Crowley and figure out what's happening.”

Her eyes narrowed to him, trying to put all of that together. “He was-... He couldn't just leave a damn note?”

Balthazar barked a hollow laugh before twisting around and falling back onto the bed. “Said he wanted to stay incognito, but at least he'll stop with the bloody ghosts... You know, I think I could actually sleep right now.”

She shook her head in confusion. “So... he saved me, told you to find Crowley, and... left?” On that last bit, she looked back to the door again.

He just threw his arms into the air. “Not like there was anything I could do about it. Archangels are at the top of the food chain, after all.”

“But why would he do all of this?” Catherine turned to look back at him again. “An archangel is interested in what Hell's planning?”

“Now you see why my best plan is to sleep through it,” he muttered, not entirely liking whatever they had found themselves in the middle of. Abbadon was right. It was much bigger than he initially thought.

After a second, she finally asked the question he was dreading. “He told you where they are?”

Balthazar let out a long groan and rubbed at his face again. “Lebanon, Kansas. He said he'd mark the way for us.”

“Lebanon...” She looked to the bedside clock and stood. “We can be there by tomorrow.”

Balthazar only watched her stand, not making any movements himself. He kept his eyes on her even as Catherine began to walk away before she stopped and slowly turned back to him. They looked between each other for a long moment until she finally broke the silence. “Are you okay?”

Still, he watched her for another minute before finally reacting to the question and looking back to the ceiling again with a sigh. “Oh, I'm brilliant.”

“Bal.”

He paused in responding again. Really, he felt like he was only stalling and it wasn't from seeing those two boys again. He couldn't save her and things were only going to get worse. At least, that was the reason he gave himself as to why that was eating at him, rather than it had to be Gabriel, the one who didn't even stick around or care for her at all, that had saved Catherine instead of him. She needed him and he fell through and an apology was in order, but he couldn't dig it out. Perhaps it was her acceptance that he couldn't save her that was holding the words back, because that was also eating away at him.

Thoughts like that were... uncomfortable, so Balthazar just took a deep breath and rolled out of bed before she could ask him what was the problem again. “Let's just go.”


	12. The Righteous Shall Flourish

“Sam?” Dean had just finished tugging his jacket on when he walked into the main foyer of the Men of Letters base, looking around for his brother. After a glance to his watch, the elder hunter reasoned that he had to be outside for a jog. Not still asleep or, worse, dead in a corner somewhere. The trials were still haunting the both of them.

Instead of waiting for him to come back in on his own time, Dean started taking the stairs two at a time to head outside and look for him, just in case. “Sammy?” He was relieved, once opening the main door, to find his brother outside. “Dude, where've you been? I was looking all over for-”

“Something's been here,” Sam said in a low tone, looking off to the road.

Being cut off from his train of thought, Dean looked to the road and back to Sam. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Something's been here,” he said again, looking to Dean, “and something's coming.”

Realization washed over him as he looked over his brother again. “Zeke. What is it? What's coming?”

“Angels,” Ezekiel said, looking away again, “One of them has been here and left beacons for others to come, but they're fading fast. They'll be here soon. This is because of Castiel. He should not have stayed, Dean.”

“Whoa, wha- Slow down. Why didn't you sense-” Dean waved his arms in the air, trying to figure out what to do first. “We can't just run and let them have the place.”

“We don't have time for that, anyway.”

“All right, all right, fine. We'll just- Give me my brother back and we'll figure out what to do.”

Ezekiel tightened his jaw, not entirely sure how that plan was going to work out, but handed over control of his body back to his unknowing host. When Sam blinked back into the world, he nearly jumped to see his brother suddenly next to him. “Dean?”

“Don't freak out,” were the first words his older brother said. These words were never followed by anything good and Sam was already frowning heavily while Dean continued. “Cas saw something and he thinks it's some angel graffiti marking up the place. He says there might be some on their way.”

“I- What?”

“Don't worry, we'll- Just don't worry. Come on.”

* * *

Even Catherine had to admit, Balthazar was much more useful as a walking, talking compass. It probably would have been easier if he had driven, but then she reasoned that he wouldn't be near as talkative. Since she had woken up, something had been on his mind that he just couldn't shake and, despite her questions on the subject, he didn't seem to want to talk about it. It likely had to do with her near death experience, but shouldn't she be the one shaken up about that?

At least they had a distraction now as she pulled the car into the drive that he indicated, until he waved at her to stop.

“What is it?” Cat asked after pulling to the side, not seeing anything threatening in these trees.

Balthazar, on the other hand, could certainly see a whole lot more. “The signs are faded more here. We're close... We should walk.”

“What?” There didn't seem to be a building for another mile, but even as she spoke, he was already out of the car and closing the door. With a quick roll of her eyes, she killed the ignition and got out, too; Balthazar already walking ahead of her to force her to catch up. “Why are we walking?”

“If I can see these signs, other angels can, too,” he answered, not bothering to slow down or look to her, “If they have their little boyfriend with them, they may be ready for trouble.”

Thankfully, he had mentioned Castiel when he filled her in on the Winchesters in general, but she wasn't sure which parts were true and which he was just exaggerating. “Well, we aren't a threat, so why should we act like we are?”

“They'll probably consider us a threat either way,” he replied, roving his head around the stretch his neck. “We just need to be ready for anything until we can explain ourselves.”

“Wait a minute...” Catherine grabbed his arm, which thankfully made him stop and finally look to her. “I thought you said you knew them and all this other stuff. Why do you think they'll attack you on sight?”

… He shifted in place. “Well, me and a friend of theirs aren't on the best of standings.” She started rubbing her eyes again, but he continued. “Plus, I'm supposed to be dead. What would you do if you saw a dead angel walking around?”

She sighed “Why didn't you tell me this on the road?”

Balthazar gave a small shrug. “You would have just stressed about it.”

Catherine allowed her arm to fall as she shot him a look, when something caught her eye behind him. Bricks, it seemed like, to some building that she couldn't see the entirety of. That was all that could be seen through the foliage in the wood.

He turned to see what she was looking at and began moving off of the road after glancing back to her again. “Good eye.”

“Is that it?” she asked, following after him again. She would certainly argue that it was well hidden and off the beaten path, but the road had to stretch around to it eventually, right? Not that she was complaining about the shortcut either.

“Seems that way,” he sighed. “Only place in miles, I think.” The building itself didn't seem to be marked by the archangel, but Balthazar could think of several reasons why that wouldn't have worked out. Instead, as they both grew closer, the building was revealed to be much larger up close. Even though it looked abandoned for years, he figured they were in the right place and nodded to his confirmation to his companion.

Catherine moved to walk ahead of him and towards the large set of double doors at the entrance. “No one looks to be home,” she said, not bothering to even touch the doors yet. “Should we knock?”

In answer, he moved an arm around her to knock loudly on the door, but both of them grew confused faces at the sound they received, which wasn't as hollow and deep as it should have been. Cat tried the handles, but groaned. “The doors are fake. We are in the right place.”

“Fake doors?” Balthazar stepped back to look up at the rest of the building. Seems the Winchesters had gotten some better accommodations, at least. “How much are you willing to bet that their base is beneath this building?”

Catherine sighed and stepped back, too. “Let's split up and find the entrance.”

She could have sworn she had just struck him by the sound he made in response. “What is up with you and splitting up everywhere we go? Every single time you end up in some sort of strange fatal predicament.”

“We had split up once,” she told him slowly, “and it was on accident.”

“You were across the room last time. I'm counting that.” Mostly because it hurt more to think she was nearly killed while he was in the same room, but he wasn't even about to voice that, especially with her glaring at him like she was.

“Well, we could always stick together and waste more time,” she shot back, “If they're here, they're not outside or they would have heard us arguing already.”

He hated her logic and groaned about it. “Fine, but we meet on the other side. If you find something... I don't know. Scream bloody murder or whatever.”

“Yes, dear.” Despite his annoyance about splitting up, Balthazar was already moving away by the time she started walking. While arguing with him was a normal occurrence, it was also more irritating than usual at the same time since she knew something was actually deeply bugging him.

Catherine shook it off by the time she rounded the corner, opting instead to just find these Winchester people as quickly as possible to move things along. Whatever had been between her and the angel had been growing and his new tense nature wasn't helping anything about it.

Leaves crunched beneath her feet as she walked along the side of the building, but upon hearing the sound echo behind her, Catherine stopped walking and listened closely. Could it be one of them? Something else? It wasn't Balthazar and that gave her enough reason to be alert. Her hand slowly snaked around to her back, yet her finger barely traced against the angel blade before the footsteps rushed toward her and she barely dodged the opponent's same blade.

* * *

Balthazar stopped his angry pacing around the building, as well, though it wasn't from hearing anything out of the ordinary. He sensed something near... and if he sensed it in his current state...

He turned in time to parry another blade that nearly drove into his back, but a hand quickly wrapped around his throat and pinned him against a tree. Of course, he could have very easily done something about that, but Catherine was right. They weren't a threat so they really shouldn't act like it. Still, this was the warm welcome he had expected.

Sam looked at the angel up and down, keeping the blade to his neck. “... Who are you?”

Bal rolled his eyes. “Beyoncé. Who the hell do I look like, boy? Mind shoving off?”

“Balthazar...?” Sam looked him up and down again, as if this was the first time he had seen someone be resurrected. “No, he died. Who are you? Who do you work for?”

“Oh, gracious,” he muttered under his breath. “This isn't the first time you've seen an angel rise from the dead. You can't actually be serious right now.”

Finally, Sam seemed to reason this occurrence with himself and finally met the angel in the eye. “Balthazar...” he said again, but pressed the blade closer to his throat. “What are you doing here?”

He knew what he was supposed to say. They weren't a threat, so they shouldn't act like it. Yet, his jaw tightened a margin more. “Why?” he asked in a low voice, “Is Cassie home, too?”

Sam only had time to tighten his grip around the sword, when a short scream broke out behind the building, gaining both of their attention. Balthazar was the first to speak. “Move!”

The younger Winchester didn't seem like he was going to have any of that, but only readjusted himself. “Who's with you?”

“I said, _move!_ ” Balthazar had to only push Sam against his chest to fling him to the ground, and he didn't wait around to see what the hunter would do when he got up again. If only his stupid wings worked like they used to.

However, once he reached the other side of the building, Bal found an image he was more than happy to receive. Catherine was still standing with Dean Winchester beneath her boot and laying on his stomach. She was also quite angry, which he was thrilled about, to be quite honest.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean mumbled into the ground. “I'm willing to believe you're not an angel, but I'm in a bad position to really give the benefit of the-...” At that, he manged to glance up to the actual angel standing before them and became speechless as his brother rounded the corner.

Sam held a sword against Balthazar before he noticed Catherine, who was already pulling out her gun until the angel raised his hands and stepped between them. “Let's all just calm down, yeah? As much as it pains me to say it, we didn't come here to start a fight. Finish one, maybe, but... well, you know.”

Sam glanced between Balthazar and Catherine, before lowering his weapon by a margin. Dean, on the other hand, was still on the ground. “You're alive?”

“You tell me,” the angel answered while his companion slowly removed herself from her opponent. She walked closer to Balthazar, keeping a close eye on the brothers.

Dean rose to his feet and nodded over to Sam while brushing himself off. “So...” There were only a million questions running through his head, so he just latched on to the most immediate one in the moment, while Sam slowly moved over to his brother. “Who's the chick?”

She growled out, “Catherine,” before looking over to Balthazar. “These cannot be the idiots we were looking for.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he groaned. “Also, by the way, since we're on the subject, I'm going to say I told you so. Splitting up never works.”

“ _What?_ ” In all honesty, she should have expected that to come up again, but her day was long enough already. “In case you didn't notice, I had it under control.”

“You screamed like a banshee.”

“I yelped in surprise,” she argued back, “Besides, wasn't I supposed to scream if I found something?”

“I didn't think you would take that literally!”

Dean cleared his throat loudly. “'Scuse me. Hey.” He smiled between them awkwardly as they both stopped arguing to glare back at him. “Um... What the hell's going on?”

Catherine just sighed, the anger from arguing already slipping away. “That's sort of what we came here to find out, I guess.” Still annoyed, she looked over to Balthazar to try figuring out where to start, when he suddenly grabbed her chin and twisted her head back to face the Winchesters. “Can I help you?” she asked in confusion.

The angel tilted his head to the side as he observed a fresh bruise on her jaw. “Did he strike you?”

“No,” she said with a sigh, “The building jumped me.”

After a beat of silence, Balthazar turned to look at Dean, who swiftly stepped behind his much taller brother. “Hey, no. I thought she was an angel. I don't know if you've heard or not, but they're sort of out for our blood, okay. I was in the right.”

It took another moment, in which Catherine said nothing in the hopes that something might actually happen for once, but Balthazar eventually released her after healing the bruise away. She rubbed at the spot, as the angel smiled. “How about we just have a chat, hm?"


	13. Negotiations

Catherine remained largely quiet as Balthazar did most of the talking. He knew them, after all, and she hadn't been a big fan ever since that Dean guy had gotten the jump on her. However, she did take notice to how Bal talked to them and what exactly he told them. He mentioned the demons, Abbadon, trying to find the boys, the ghosts, and no more. Nothing about Gabriel, and Cat took the liberty of honoring that idea. If he didn't mention the archangel then that was reason enough for her not to mention him. She trusted Balthazar far more than these two morons.

However, they proved to have just as much trust in the pair as they themselves did with the brothers. Dean was the first to bring it up. “Some angel painted this whole area. Who told you where we are?”

She couldn't blame them for wanting to know. They were hiding from angels, after all, but she still didn't speak. Balthazar continued on as he had been. “My sources choose to remain anonymous. If you have a problem with that, then you're just going to have to deal with it.”

… She would have chosen a more peaceful approach, though.

“And you want us,” Dean pointed between him and his brother, “to let you two... in our place.”

Bal smirked to them. “Or you can drag the king out here. Either way, we're not leaving until we've had a nice chat with Crowley.”

“Or,” Dean continued, “maybe you can sit your asses here and we can go have a chat with him.”

Catherine was getting as annoyed as Balthazar was, but he did a much better job of reigning himself in than she would have done. Honestly, she probably would have knocked them both out by now and let herself on in, but whatever. Still, he gave them a dangerous smirk and his eyes glinted just the same as when he faced off against Abbadon, what seemed like ages ago. “I didn't rise from the dead to argue with you two ignorant pricks.”

“We don't even know her,” Sam interjected, motioning to Cat before moving to the angel, “and you're not exactly high on our list of people to trust. Remember the Titanic? And the blood from your father crap?”

Balthazar's jaw tightened, causing Catherine to not ask after the Titanic until later. Dean, on the other hand, furrowed his brow. “Blood from your- He told you to do that?”

Sam rolled his shoulder and looked back to Dean. “I asked first but yes. Where else did you think I figured out that spell from?”

“A book!” the older brother exclaimed, “Why didn't you tell me that before we started including him-”

“Boys!” Balthazar brought attention back to himself after stepping closer to them. Once they had shut up, his eyes darted between the two of them dangerously. Catherine hadn't seen him this tense before, even against Abbadon, and she had to wonder if this was part of what was bugging him before or some whole other thing. He started speaking to them again, but slower and quieter than before. “Do either of you have any idea how old I am?”

Not expecting that particular question, the brothers didn't have time to form a comeback before he continued. “Because I am very very old... I am that old simply because of self preservation. Do you know what that means?” He didn't bother to give them time to interrupt again. “It means that I don't listen to two mortal heathens of God that like to send people on suicide missions against _archangels!_ ”

Catherine stiffened a bit, definitely not expecting the burst of anger or the mention of his death. She had no idea they had been involved and this was not the situation she wanted to be in when she found out.

The brothers shifted under his gaze and Dean swallowed a lump in his throat, but it was Sam that the angel approached further. “I _died_ because of you two imbeciles... I want to speak to Crowley. Now.”

Sam glanced over to his brother, not daring to speak for the both of them in the situation he was in, even if he was the one that had pissed the angel off in the first place. Dean, shifting again, took in a deep breath before admitting, “Castiel's here.”

It took a long moment before Balthazar looked over to the speaker. “Then by all means,” he spoke, “warn him.”

The brothers shared another look, before Dean slowly nodded. “Wait here,” he told the pair without glancing over, patting his brother on the arm and walking around them all as he went back to the front entrance. Sam slowly moved around the angel to follow after his brother quickly.

Balthazar watched the two go until he could see Catherine out of the corner of his eye and turned back to avoid looking to her. She watched him for a long moment while he continued to say nothing. In all honesty, she hadn't asked after his death before for several reasons, most of which were led from respect. However, she no longer cared at this point. “What happened?”

He didn't bother being annoying and asking what she was referring to. It was a little obvious and he couldn't really blame her. So, Balthazar finally turned back to face her again. “They might have been involved in... all of that nonsense.” She did not look in the least bit pleased with his answer, so he adjusted his jaw and tried again. “They asked me to keep an eye on someone and I did. That person found out and I ended up dead. That double agent stuff is only good in theory really.”

She nodded back, looking away from him as she searched for a border between angry and upset. “Why does that angel matter so much, then?”

It was Balthazar's turn to shift this time and he sighed while folding his arms in front of his chest. “He may have been the one I was meant to keep an eye on.”

“He killed you.” She could not believe he did this. After all of that, all of the searching, all of the hardships, they had been looking for his murderer and his accomplices the entire time. It didn't help that the same people who distrusted that angel had still kept him around after he had killed Balthazar.

He, on the other hand, was thinking that the hunter had come to a completely different conclusion, but he would have liked to avoid this conversation all the same. “Well, I had my back turned at the time, so I couldn't really say for sure if-” His sentence trailed off due to her glare. Right. Bal gave another deep sigh. “Yes. Castiel was the one who killed me.”

Catherine let out a hollow laugh as she rubbed her eyes with one hand. “You weren't going to tell me.” It wasn't a question. She wouldn't have come here if he had told her. “What made you think it was a good idea to seek out the guys that ended up getting you killed? Did you think that lightning doesn't strike twice in the same spot or something?”

… Perhaps he should have known better for her to question whether or not he deserved to be killed, but it only put the conversation on a different path that was just as difficult to get through. Trying to not show his surprise at her reaction, he just adjusted to the new situation. “They have Crowley,” he told her, “What else were we supposed to do?”

“Go after Abbadon,” she answered the obvious, “Confront the bitch face to face instead of getting tangled up in more people who want us dead.”

“They don't want us dead,” he argued back, not entirely sure if that statement was true and definitely not liking this conversation. They had fought plenty of times before, sure, but that was usually over senseless things, not... an actual fight. “They didn't exactly _intend_ for me to die when they sent me on my merry way, and Cassie was nuts at the time.”

She was quiet for a second, giving him an incredulous look. “Is that supposed to make me feel better about this?” She was fairly sure it wasn't making him feel any better about it, given the way he had mentioned his death before. He didn't answer her, so she continued. “What are we even doing here, Balthazar? Unless this is some sort of revenge plot that you've also neglected to tell me about.”

“If this was about revenge, I would have killed them,” he answered all too honestly. “Does that help?” Bal stood resolutely as she glared back at him. Again, not the first time she shot a look like that towards him, but it was the first time that she really meant it.

Finally, after another tense moment, she approached him as he looked away again. “If you want to help, then tell me why we should trust them any more than Abbadon. How am I supposed to know that they won't kill us when our backs are turned?”

He looked back to Catherine, seeing just how serious and... worried she really was. “Fine. Don't trust them,” he eventually answered. “But trust me.” That only seemed to make her angrier. “ _Do_ you trust me?”

“Balthazar-”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes!” she finally exclaimed, “But what am I supposed to trust after they kill you? _Again?_ ”

For a second, he didn't have an answer to that. He was angry with the Winchesters and he was far more than angry with Castiel, but, so long as something bigger was going on, he knew that he was in no danger, Cat even less so. That is, so long as they didn't start any trouble. “I just need you to believe in me, Catherine,” he finally spoke, “Please.”

She didn't answer him again for a long moment, but finally just nodded instead. It wasn't like she was going to convince him to leave now and he was definitely going to get in there to see Crowley with or without her, so it was the only option she could go with. Still, she was willing to trust him despite that.

Footsteps brought both of their attentions back to Dean, who stopped approaching them when they noticed and pointed behind him. “You and Cathy wanna come in or what?”

Nearly growling, she moved her glare onto the Winchester before walking towards him, adding in a shove as she passed. “It's _Catherine_.”

He watched her go before turning back to Balthazar who had joined him. The angel was going to tell him that she was harmless, but revised his comment at the last minute. “I'd, uh... I'd watch my back.” He continued on before Dean could make a remark.

* * *

Balthazar walked ahead of her as they moved down the stairs. Sam was standing on the bottom landing next to another young man. Catherine assumed that was Castiel until her own angel stopped in front of her and tilted his head. “Who's that?”

“Um, Kevin,” the young guy said, shifting in place. He obviously didn't seem too comfortable with an angel entering their sanctuary.

“Kevin,” Bal repeated before smirking and continuing down the stairs. “Charmed, I'm sure. Where's Cassie?”

Dean passed them by and answered before anyone else could. “Away on leave.”

“You mean, hiding,” Balthazar corrected. Cat glanced around the very nice room, making sure that it was just them there. This place was much bigger than it looked and she wasn't very comfortable with being led to wherever they were keeping the demon. Thankfully, they hadn't asked for her weapons.

Dean huffed at Bal's comment. “You want to see Crowley or not?”

He only hummed in return, before Kevin and the brothers began walking towards a corridor. Catherine could hardly get a proper look around as she followed after the boys, still being wary of both Castiel and the demon. Then again, she wasn't so sure of what to expect from this infamous Crowley, aside from a really tough demon that, for some reason, had been kept alive by hunters. As if that alone didn't send up red flags about these people.

After a quiet walk, they all arrived in what looked to be a room devoted to archives, and she was already calling it a trap when they moved two bookcases aside. The man inside the room – chained to a chair with sigils poured over the walls – blinked at the sudden light, but held a smile anyway. “Decided to stop by and visit-...” Balthazar walked in ahead of Catherine while Crowley tried to find his tongue. “The Hell?... You're dead, my good chap.”

“A preexisting condition,” Bal smiled back while she placed herself beside him. Kevin tucked himself into a corner while the Winchesters stood at the entrance. She still wasn't comfortable about the situation, but at least they did seem to have Crowley.

“It would seem so,” the demon finally said, looking the other up and down. “Bringing angels back to life, now. I have a funny feeling God wasn't involved in it this time, eh?” Bal didn't answer, so Crowley smirked. “Maybe you should ask your hosts. They know why the angels fell and I don't think you're going to like that story very much.”

Sam looked to Dean, who interjected before that got any further. “We'll cover that later, but we don't know why he's back to life or the rest of the answers to what he's come to ask from you.”

Balthazar only glanced to Dean in distaste before looking back to the prisoner, who smiled a little larger. “That so,” Crowley chuckled, “Angels coming to demons for intelligence. I like that turn.”

Catherine, again, looked around the room as Dean went back to standing against the door. It was then that she noticed someone else in the archive room approaching quietly. When his eyes fell on her, he had already stopped coming forward and didn't look as if he would interrupt anything. On the other hand, that didn't sway her opinion of him at all as he glanced back to Balthazar beside her. It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was. Dean turned, too, when he noticed her watching something behind them, but only nodded to the new person in the room. He nodded in return and took a careful step back.

After looking him over one more time, Cat turned back to the demon as he chuckled once more. “Please, Balthy. How can I be of some service?”

The angel took a breath and began explaining what he knew of Abbadon.

 


	14. The Loyalty of Family

“Sounds like you have some problems,” Crowley answered once Balthazar told him what had happened back when he and Catherine first met. The angel only grimaced at him, but the demon shrugged. “I'm not sure what you want me to tell you. There's a ton of beautiful spells that call for an angel's grace. Just ask Tweedledee and Tweedledum here. They know all about that.”

Instead of glaring at the brothers like Cat was doing, Bal only rolled his eyes. “Yes, I'm not a moron, but this was important. Abbadon was desperate and I have it on _very_ high authority that this wasn't for your everyday recipe.”

“On who's authority, I wonder,” Crowley returned, furrowing his eyes, but receiving no response. “Honestly, unless you give me something to work with, even I can't tell you what she's up to. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly her biggest fan.”

Balthazar glanced to Catherine for any extra information she could think of and, after a beat of silence, something did occur to her. “She wanted him to hand it over,” she finally spoke up, gaining the demon's attention. “Abbadon was willing to take his grace by force, but she was trying to convince him to hand it over on his own. She said that the grace was supposed to be stronger that way.”

Crowley stayed silent for a moment, watching Cat closely, until he finally summed up her words. “An angel's...  _willing_ grace. Is that what you're telling me?” She only glanced back to Balthazar, who looked as lost as she was, while Crowley glanced between the two of them. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “Well, I can see why your very high authority might be a bit perturbed about the situation now... Tell you what,” he smirked, “Let loose some of these chains, let me stretch the old sea legs a bit, and I might be able to be of some use to you. I don't do things for free, I'm sure you've heard.”

Bal was just happy to know that Crowley wasn't completely useless, but he didn't have the chance to stop Catherine, who was already edging her angel blade along the demon's neck. Right... She was probably still angry from earlier...

“This sword kills angels,” she told him with a smile, “as I'm sure you know, O' Mighty King. I'm still a little new to most of this stuff, but I would really love to see what this thing would do to you.”

Crowley, who was at first surprised, only smiled back. “I'm the King of Hell, sweetheart. Whatever you plan to do to me, I'm excited.”

Now it was Bal's turn to frown, but Catherine didn't seem very off put. If anything, she was more annoyed. “And I can't help but notice that you seem to be all in one piece, more or less. You worked the crossroads, right? How 'bout a deal?” Crowley's eyes flashed dangerously from her sarcasm and even more so from the fact that she didn't care. “Tell us what we want to know and I'll let you keep your appendages. I might even not kick your balls in for calling me sweetheart.”

He just stared back at her for a moment before glancing at Balthazar, then looked her up and down. “I  _like_ her. Where on Earth did you find this doll?” Before any answers could be had, he had already turned his full attention back to Cat. “Have you considered a retirement plan yet?” She pushed back against him, nearly cutting his throat, but before she had the chance to scream more threats at him, Crowley was already backing down. “Okay! Okay.”

Her head barely twisted in confusion at how easy that was. Catherine wasn't that scary and she knew it. She was about to make sure he wasn't going to deal them a trick, when Balthazar's hand fell on her shoulder. He seemed to think Crowley was going to tell the truth, for whatever reason, so she backed off.

The demon huffed and shifted until he was comfortable again. “But only because I have a feeling I'm going to like her plans much less than you lot.”

The angel continued to frown at the rate this was going as he took back his hand from the hunter. “What is she planning?” he asked again.

Crowley glared up to him and then around to everyone else in the room. “Abbadon,” he said loudly, “is a whore. She always has been and she always will be, along with being a prickling splinter in my side, but that's another topic. The point is... as scary and self-sufficient she may be, she will always remain a whore.”

Catherine rolled her eyes. “And the moral of this story is?”

He glanced over to her, but the playful smirk was long gone. “Every whore needs her pimp... Beyond all else, she is loyal.” Cat wasn't the only one to furrow her brow in confusion, so he looked out among them again. “All of the angels are on the ground. Some, if not all of them, are back to life again. Heaven is completely defenseless and, even better, no longer militant.” He looked back to Sam and Dean. “I imagine in all of the confusion, no one bothered to notice if some more of those little seals were being broken, did they?”

The younger brother was the first to come forward. “What?”

“There are more than sixty-six seals, Moose,” Crowley replied. “It only takes sixty-six to open the door.”

Catherine was confused, but whatever he was saying made some sort of sense to the Winchesters and Balthazar... By the looks on all of them, she didn't like whatever the hell was going on, but she didn't voice it. Instead, Dean intervened. “But there are some seals that have to be broken. Those can't be done again.”

“That's right,” the demon chuckled. “You broke the first one, but the magic part about that is it's the first one. All they have to do is back track.”

Sam spoke up again, “But Lilith-”

“Lilith was the oldest that was still _alive_! She wasn't a Knight,” Crowley told them, his rising voice finally gaining their silence for a minute.

The eldest Winchester opened his mouth a few times before a sound finally tumbled out. “That's impossible. It was all on, like, this big grand schedule thing. She can't open anything-”

“The apocalypse was on schedule,” Crowley interrupted, “All she needs to open the door is to get the spell right.” He then glanced past Dean to the newcomer.

“What's the spell?” Castiel had finally walked forward, drawing everyone's attention, especially Balthazar's. Catherine, while she didn't know exactly what was going on, still recognized the gravity of the situation and looked between the both of them until Bal looked back to Crowley expectantly.

The demon huffed again. “Sixty-five seals and a worm moon. She'll need the help of five angels, since Moose here isn't going to be of any use, plus her own sacrificed life... So, that's some good news, at least.”

“You mean their graces,” Cas continued, looking worried.

Crowley only tilted his head in thought. “The graces that they've handed over willingly, yes, so I wouldn't worry about your own. There's  _more_ than enough angels out there now who are either idiots or loyal to both Michael and the cause, as represented in our resurrected fellow right here.”

“Worm moon,” Dean mumbled, tapping both Castiel and Sam on their shoulders as he ran out of the room. His brother followed closely behind him while Cas hesitated a moment before following.

Kevin watched them run away before looking back to the group who remained. “What the hell is going on?”

Catherine looked over to Balthazar, who took a minute to look back to her without glancing to the actual speaker of the question. “She's raising Michael and Lucifer.”

She only gave him a blank look, while Kevin approached closer and looked between him and Crowley. After a second, he dashed out of the room, too, following after the Winchesters. She watched him run away as she glanced around, completely lost and feeling way too rushed about this. How did this happen so quickly? More importantly, how did she manage to land in the middle of it?

Cat was just about to follow after everyone else when Balthazar grabbed hold of her arm to stop her. “Wait.” He was looking to Crowley instead of her when she glanced back to him, but she obeyed and didn't run after the others just yet. Bal only looked back to Crowley and she couldn't quite tell what to read upon his face in the moment when he finally asked, “How did the angels fall?”

It took a second, but Crowley smirked again.

* * *

Dean and Sam made it back to the library and scrambled to the books. The eldest was the first to dump as many of them about Heaven and Hell he could find on to the table while Sam took out his laptop to find any strange, recent news around the world.

“He's gotta be lying,” Dean mumbled to himself, throwing a few more books on to the table. “That's impossible. We would have known. Something would have happened and we would have figured it out by now.”

Before Sam could type in the first thing, his eyes flashed and Ezekiel stood up straight. “Dean.” The other stopped in mid-sentence to look over to his brother, realizing immediately it wasn't actually Sam, but the angel crossed to the other side of the table before he could say anything. “I cannot stay here.”

Already flustered, Dean blinked back at him. “What? No. No, what?”

“Another angel is here, one that's been dead for years, and now Michael and Lucifer are going to walk the Earth again,” Ezekiel said, terribly scared and taking a deep breath. “They will search out you and your brother. If I stay here, Lucifer will take his true vessel and I cannot fathom what he will do to me.”

“To you?” Dean almost screamed in shock. “What about to Sam?”

Setting his jaw, he repeated himself slowly. “I cannot stay.”

“You need to stay,” the hunter replied desperately, “Sam needs you to stay. I need you to stay, dammit! Please! We need you now more than ever.” Ezekiel only looked to Dean and didn't respond for a long moment, in which the other let out another short plea. “Please.”

He glanced away and nodded before retreating away inside of Sam's mind again. Back in reality, Sam looked around to his new position in the room, but was distracted when Castiel walked in with a large open book.

“The worm moon,” he announced, setting the book down on the table and pointing to a passage. “It's a phase of the moon that happens yearly. This year it's on March the sixteenth.” He looked up to the brothers. “What's today?”

“The fourteenth,” Catherine's voice carried from behind him as she approached the others. Cas had already moved far away from the table when Balthazar appeared along with her.

Before either could say anything more, Kevin ran in with a handful of books and papers, dumping them all at the other end of the table along with the angel tablet, which Balthazar quickly pointed to. “You idiots still have that thing?”

“I see you talked to Crowley,” Dean grumbled while going back to sifting through books as Sam ran back over to his computer. “We were trying to fix it, FYI. Here,” this he directed to Catherine, “You're a hunter. Come make yourself useful.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes while Cat moved over to the books, but Kevin spoke up before the angel could. “There's nothing here in what I've already deciphered,” he said, looking through the tablet and his notes. “Nothing about angels using their own graces for a spell, anyway. In... what's already been checked through.”

Sam glanced to him while he clicked through different news websites. “How long will it take you to decipher any more of it?”

The younger kid just shook his head. “Way too long.”

“Bal.” Catherine reached over to the angel when she found something within the text she was going through. He was by her side in a second, finding what she was pointing to and frowning. “It's the same ones,” she told him as he leaned against the table.

“Dammit,” the angel muttered, but had already drawn Dean's attention.

“What?” he asked, getting more and more paranoid by the second. “What is it?”

“The sigils,” Balthazar sighed without looking up to the other hunter, “It's the same ones the demons used to make those ghosts stronger... Why didn't I realize it?”

Catherine looked up to him, worried. “He did,” she said, referring to Gabriel and he instantly caught it. Gabriel was suspecting exactly what they had gotten a lead on... It couldn't be a lie.

Sam's jaw locked as he looked through the news articles of the last month. “Dean, there's at least thirty of them and I'm only skimming the surface,” he said quietly, gaining everyone's attention except for just his brother's. Still, he looked up to address him. “It's not a coincidence... What do we do?”

Everyone grew quiet and turned to look at Dean, who was still trying to blink out of the nightmare he had suddenly found himself swimming in. “We...” He licked his lips, trying to think back. “We know where the cage opens at... Abbadon will be there setting everything up. All we have to do is get over there and stop her before crazy shit happens.” He was already moving around the group to find his jacket.

“What?” Sam asked, watching his brother. “You mean Maryland?”

Dean nodded. “We can be there by tomorrow if we hurry our asses up.”

Catherine looked between the brothers as Sam hurried away from his laptop and into the back rooms. “Maryland, where?” she asked.

“Ilchester,” Dean responded, checking his pockets for his keys before pointing to her. “You're not coming.”

Immediately, she grew angry again. “What?”

The eldest Winchester turned back to the group and pointed to each of them. “Kevin and Cas aren't nearly as experienced as they should be, Balthazar's practically a walking bull's eye-” Dean ignored the comment he got in return and continued. “-and you're the only other hunter we've got and, right now, we really need someone who knows their stuff on ground control. I don't know you, but I'm desperate.”

He turned back around before he could get any arguments in return, but Catherine didn't have any to give in that moment, knowing that his thinking was at least somewhat rational. Balthazar, on the other hand, looked around the room as if he had remembered something. “Where's Singer?”

Sam appeared again with his jacket on and a backpack in hand. “Dead,” he answered, walking around his brother and already moving up the stairs.

Dean looked back to the group. “It's a long story. We'll tell you when it's over.” With that, he started following after Sam. “Just hold the house down and keep in touch!” he called over his shoulder and then he was gone.

The others were silent for a long moment when Bal quietly muttered, “I suppose that's why I couldn't find him...”

Catherine glanced to him, then back to the rest of the room. Castiel had vanished, but Kevin stood still as a statue until he fell back into an empty seat. Lost again, she looked back up to Balthazar who only looked back down to her.

 


	15. The Best Things In Life Aren't Things

It wasn't that Catherine didn't like Kevin. He was an okay kind of guy, really. She just couldn't handle how... weird he was.

She had initially attempted to set up a small work space for herself in the Winchester's library, but Kevin murmuring to his little rock was beginning to get way too creepy for her. Between that and Balthazar amusing himself by trying to spark a one sided conversation with the kid, she realized that the library just wasn't going to do it for her.

After finding one of the many vacant bedrooms in the base, she brought all of the books and notes, along with Sam's computer and the angel, to the small room to pour over things there with one of the Winchester's extra phones incredibly close by. She learned a lot in the next five hours – asking Balthazar about any questions she had concerning Heaven, the angels, Michael, or the apocalypse. He was informative, but couldn't always answer everything and continued time and again to convince her that asking Crowley anything more was only going to go badly.

A sudden far off sound jostled Cat from her studies and her hand flew to the gun at her side - next to the phone and angel sword, of course - when she stopped to listen for where the noise came from, but Balthazar's voice interrupted. “Even I know that was the heat turning on.”

She glanced over to find him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and she groaned when it hit her that he was right. Catherine was highly aware that he wasn't enjoying watching her jump at shadows when her head wasn't stuck in a book while he could probably be doing more productive things against this whole resurrection business, but she was wary to let him out of her sight with his murderer walking around.

For now, she just tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes, when he spoke up again to reveal how obvious her tiredness was. “You need to sleep.”

Cat groaned louder and looked down to all of the books around her. “I can't. This is too important and I don't know enough about it-”

“And nothing's going to happen for another eight hours, at least,” he interrupted. “Those two aren't popping out of the ground tomorrow. We have time.”  
  
“Not enough of it!” she burst out, but anger was something that was very far from her plethora of emotions swimming in her head. “We only have a couple of days to stop this and I'm not even out there doing anything. I got stuck on phone duty!”

“I _know_ ,” he stressed, “and you've been in a constant state of panic about it since the boys left.” She groaned again and rubbed at her face while he pushed off of the wall to move closer and sit beside her, effectively blocking her view of about a quarter of the books she had lying around. “For once, I'm not just saying this to get what I want,” he admitted, “but you really won't be of any use to anyone if you're a freaked out zombie.”

It took a second, but Catherine chuckled at that. “And here I thought you've been sincere the whole time.” He allowed himself a smile while she wasn't looking, but it washed away as quickly as it came when she continued. “I can't sleep now. Here. This is-”

He interrupted her again, “I'll keep an eye on everything. Make sure that babbling lunatic doesn't come in here and stares at you or something. I'll even listen for the phones.” He shot down each of her arguments before she could voice them.

Finally, she huffed a sigh and seriously looked up to him. “What about Castiel?”

Balthazar's expression didn't change, as he had expected the question, but it still took him a second to speak while he battled over different responses. “Are you worried about me or him?” She tilted her head and gave him a sarcastic look which caused him to go back over his response and try again. “I'll keep an eye out for him, too.” When that didn't seem to help all that much, he also added, “Let's just say that no one is going to die tonight. We're safe here, including Castiel. There's too much at stake for either of us to consider something so drastic right now.”

She sighed and rubbed her eyes again. “I guess that helps,” she told him halfheartedly. “You're not going to just follow those two around, are you?”

“No, no,” he said in thought. “Actually, I was thinking that I might go and get a little praying in. Couldn't hurt... probably.”

Catherine knew he was referring to Gabriel, but wasn't so sure that prayers would work right now, even for an archangel. “Do you think he knows?”

Bal was quiet for a beat, until he just out and admitted it. “Yes... He's been knowing, but likely too scared to face it until it was out in the open.”

“Can he help?” She looked up to him seriously again, a little worried, but he liked that little flash of trust in her eyes a little too much than he cared to admit.

He still tried not to show it best to his abilities and decided to focus on the question instead. “Gabriel isn't as strong as Michael or Lucifer, but he's creative and knowledgeable... but this is assuming he hasn't immediately gone underground after realizing his suspicions were right.” She looked confused, so Balthazar shrugged. “He's done it before. Both archangels want him on their team and he's died once already for choosing the wrong side.”

Her shoulders sagged from that news. “Reassuring.”

“But I'm going to try anyway,” he said with a smile, standing up again, but looked back down to her as he started moving away to the door. “Sleep. Please. For me, at least, otherwise you're going to drive to insanity.”

Catherine smiled again, but a thought came to her mind just as his hand fell on the door. “How do angels pray?”

He looked back to her, not expecting that question, but smirked anyway. “It usually includes a lot of cursing at the sky.”

She smiled once again so he decided to take his leave. It was a nice enough moment to leave on... When he stepped out of the doorway, however, he saw the back of someone who had just passed by and wasn't altogether unexpected.

“Castiel,” Balthazar called after him after firmly shutting the door. The other stopped walking and slowly turned back to the speaker, not daring to speak. He looked sad and tired, eyes filled with emotion at finally looking to his brother again face to face. Bal had heard about the other angel's grace, so was not surprised at seeing his haggard state. For a long moment, a silence passed between the two of them as they both waited for the other to do something. Eventually, Balthazar pointed to where he came. “Don't come near this door again,” he finally said, turning away and leaving while the other only watched after him.

* * *

While he may have acted otherwise, Balthazar felt just as tense as Catherine seemed to be, if not more so. He remembered the whole business with the apocalypse as well as any other angel who lived during the time. Most willingly helped Michael spur it on, some rebelled completely, and others helped Michael either unwillingly or for simply nothing better to do, like himself.

That was before he had first come to Earth, though. A lot of things had changed in that time and he didn't want the archangels rescheduling their grand battle. He was officially on Team Human, like it or not, but at least they could probably snuff things out before it turned completely overwhelming.

Balthazar walked outside in the night air, realizing that the light breeze and stillness of life was nice yet still didn't affect him as much as it did for humans. Catherine even demanded they let a window or two down in the car on some nights simply to let fresh air in. He didn't really get it, but eventually stopped arguing about it.

He tried taking a calming breath of the crisp air like she had done some times before and was annoyed by the fact that it didn't help.

“Gabriel,” he spoke out, voice firm and carrying through the trees, but at least he wasn't shouting yet. “You were right,” Bal continued, “Abbadon's opening the cage.”

He waited a moment for a reply. Of course, Gabriel already knew he was right. He said he would know by the way the group reacted. Sam and Dean speeding away to Maryland sure wasn't an indicator of anything. But he still looked pleading to the stars above in the silence.

“What do I do?” he finally outright asked.

Surely the Winchesters could handle Abbadon, what with their element of surprise and all, but what if they couldn't? What if Michael and Lucifer rose again to resume their war or, worse, destroy anyone who had previously gotten in their way? Obviously that included the boys, but it included himself as well. Stealing the weapons of Heaven and giving them to Castiel for the sole purpose of overthrowing Raphael was a direct offense to them since the archangel wanted the war back on from the start.

It wasn't only his life that he worried about. He had gotten someone who was previously innocent wrapped up in all of this mess and she would be killed indiscriminately with the rest of their troupe because of him. He didn't care for the taste of that.

Yet, the world remained quiet and Gabriel was not going to show himself, if he was even there at all. It was more than likely that he had either gone with the Winchesters or hid himself, that's assuming that an archangel's wings burn the same way Bal's had, of course.

“Gabriel,” he called out again and continued to wait a little while longer.

* * *

Balthazar quietly shut the main entrance door as he returned a bit forlorn. Really, he didn't expect any answers, but one would have been really nice anyway. He trotted down the stairs, noticing that Kevin was still hanging over the angel tablet. Out of a more serious curiosity, he approached the young man again.

It took a moment, but eventually Kevin glanced up from his readings to see the angel standing over him. He hadn't heard him come in, though that wasn't really surprising. “You need something?” he asked, trying to seem annoyed rather than intimidated.

“No, no,” Bal shook his head, looking at the tablet before looking back to the boy. “Just wondering what good, if any, can come out of that rock of yours.”

With a grimace, Tran glanced back to the tablet and then to Balthazar before going back to his work. “Not a lot so far, to be honest.” After a second, he paused and looked back up. “Can you read Enochian?”

Bal arched an eyebrow. “Yes, but not that,” he pointed, “I'm not exactly high enough on the food chain for that sort of formal speak.”

“Great,” Kevin sighed, but bit his lip in thought and looked behind the angel for a moment. “Um. I couldn't help but notice that Sam and Dean know _you_ but not... uh... Miss... Hunter Lady...”

“I think she prefers to be called Miss Catherine Hunter Lady,” he smirked in return, “but no, they wouldn't. I met her after your friend's great fall of Heaven and she had never heard of the Winchesters until Abbadon came after us.”

The young prophet tried swallowing a lump in his throat while he gave an awkward shrug. “You know, it's... not really Cas' fault... Metatron was playing him. He didn't know.”

Balthazar was already laughing before he was done talking. “He only aided in the near destruction of Heaven. Of course, he's not at fault.”

Playing with his pen now, Kevin became a little more fidgety. “When you two showed up, Dean said that you guys have a... complicated truce relationship going on.” Bal scoffed, but the boy continued. “What happened?”

For a second, there was no answer while the angel thought it over. Eventually, he answered, “I helped the Winchesters and Castiel killed me for it.” Kevin turned wide-eyed and speechless, not that anyone could place blame on the boy. Bal just gave another shrug and turned to leave. “It's quite the story. They should tell you about it some time.”

Kevin didn't stop him from walking away, which he was more than happy about. It had only been several hours and he was done with thinking of Castiel. Though, the angel came to mind again as Balthazar walked down the halls. He had last seen him hovering close to Catherine's door and, try as he might to think otherwise, that didn't sit too well with him.

He checked the surrounding area first, telling himself he was just taking a better look around at their very temporary dwelling, before finally arriving at her door again. Quietly, he cracked it open and was relieved to see her finally sleeping. Whether it was to his request or because she finally passed out was up for debate, but he was pleased nonetheless.

He entered and the door closed behind him just as quietly before he sighed. He felt much better in here than exploring the rest of this place. It just wasn't sitting right with him, yet. Not really just the place, but the situation as well. His nerves hadn't quieted down and when he was free to not act like everything was fine was when it seemed to effect him worse. On a normal day, he probably would have tried to wake Catherine up just to annoy her and have something else on his mind, but she needed all of the rest, focus, and strength she could get for this.

What strength did a human have against two very angry archangels, though?

Balthazar scrubbed at his eyes and looked over to her in serious consideration. It would have been better to have just left in her in Sioux Falls. She could have perfectly handled herself against a couple of demons that would have only bothered her until they realized she was no longer attached to an angel, he hoped. But, that was in the past and nothing could be done about it, especially since he lacked any means of time travel now. He had to focus on the present state and what the future could hold.

That made him want scrub at his face harder, but he didn't. Balthazar hardly moved as his eyes – somewhere between softness and anger – stayed on her sleeping form. This wasn't fair. Why a human? Why her? He was just going to lose her anyway in some sort of fashion. Caring for people had recently turned into an incredible annoyance for him. Either they died or stabbed you in the back. There was no longer a point to it all.

… Yet, the primary reason that his murder still stung was because he still cared for his brother. At least he was alive. While he never suspected Castiel to do such a thing, he knew that Catherine was even less likely do so. That only left one other route for her to take out of his life and he felt it coming to pass far too quickly with the oncoming storm. They had spent such a short time together and he wasn't ready to let go yet.

Surely, those boys could stop it. They could handle it just as before, especially with Gabriel's help, if the archangel was lending it. It would be fine, but no amount of reassurances eased the dread eating at him.

After another moment of silence, Balthazar quietly moved over to her and knelt down next to the bed without much thought. There wasn't a whole lot he could do against archangels or the apocalypse in his current state, nor could he really help against the fallen angel crisis or Hell's supremacy battle. If he was being honest with himself, he couldn't really stop anything bad from happening to his new treasured friend, but he wanted to think differently for just a moment.

His hand slowly reached out and gently glided from the edge of her face to melt into her hair. The least he could do was try to protect her. Angels have done so before with humans, obviously. One doesn't have to look far to find an example. There was a striking difference between Castiel's methods and his own, though. His brother knew loss, but not in the same ways. He always had something looking out for him in some way, whether it be God or a Winchester. He didn't know – really know – what it was like to lose everything. Balthazar didn't want to be at a loss again.

He didn't know if he had decided this a long time ago or not, but he at least now consciously recognized her as his charge. She was to be his to protect. His to keep safe. His human. His Catherine. Perhaps he wasn't ready to face the full implications of those thoughts, but he was no longer trying to keep himself blind for his own safety, either. He had to keep her safe and that meant facing reality.

Balthazar slowly leaned closer and placed a light kiss to her temple. His contact was short lived, however, before she gave a slight shift beneath the touch. He inched hardly a hair away so that only his breath brushed against her skin now, but she must have recognized some sort of comfort in his closeness as Catherine quickly fell back to sleep again. Daring not to move any closer or further, he stayed where he was for a long time to watch over her as she slept.

 


	16. Ilchester

It was daylight when the Winchester boys found their way back to St. Mary's in Ilchester. Or well... the site of the old St. Mary's. It was just a construction area now that was vacant of workers, building a new cathedral in place of the area that Lucifer had decimated.

For a few minutes, they stayed in the Impala to glance around the area. Dean blinked for a minute and rose his hand. “... Where is everyone? I was told there'd be a party here. Cake and everything.”

“Maybe Crowley was lying,” Sam offered, but didn't look to his brother. He was still looking out to the streets for a sign of anything. Crowley couldn't be lying. “Or maybe we should take a look around?”

The older brother sunk into his seat... before something caught his eye and he straightened up again. “Someone decided to go to work today,” he said, pointing to a young man in a black hoodie, giving shifty looks as he moved down the sidewalk and into the unfinished cathedral. “Let's go.”

Dean and Sam quickly got out of the car and followed after this person as quietly as possible, hoping this was exactly what it looked like to the two hunters.

The guy walked down the middle of the large cathedral as if the church pews were already set into place while he moved towards the stage area. He turned at the echoing sound of a door closing somewhere within the unfinished halls, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. When he turned back around to face the altar again, he was met with Dean standing there, grasping Ruby's knife.

The man's eyes flicked between the knife and Dean's face, backing away as the hunter moved closer.

“Don't play coy,” the Winchester said, not stopping his approach. “Spill the beans, kid.”

Opting to turn around and run, the man was then met with the younger brother on his other side. “What do you want?” he finally asked, shaking a little.

“Where's Abbadon?” Sam asked of him.

“Wh-Who?”

With the man's attention on his brother, Dean took a flask out of his back pocket and splashed a little holy water on to the guy's arm. He immediately hissed and backed away, baring his teeth as smoke rose from his jacket.

“Where's Abbadon?” Sam asked again.

The demon looked between them both angrily, flashing his black eyes for a moment. “I don't know.”

“Yes, you do,” Dean grimaced, “And we don't have time to screw around.”

Glancing between the two brothers, the demon began backing away to a wall.

Sam suddenly straightened up, eyes momentarily flashing a bright blue. “I'll have him talk,” Ezekiel said quietly and approached the demon.

He cowered into the wall. “You're a-” Without another word, he opened his mouth and spewed out black smoke in an attempt to escape, but the angel caught the smog and pushed him back into the vessel.

* * *

Not unlike the night before, Catherine still had her face buried within one of the older books from the Winchesters' library. The only difference was that she now sat at a table in their kitchen with a plate of untouched toast across from her. She had only seen Balthazar when she initially woken up to find him flipping through the same books that put her to sleep. Kevin, as usually, might as well have been as lively as Castiel since he didn't even seem to have moved since the night before. She had come to the kitchen for food, but eating hadn't happened in the last twenty minutes since she had been sitting there.

Balthazar walked in, not that she really noticed beyond hearing the footsteps, but he made his presence known quickly enough when he stopped at the door. “What happened to eating?”

It still took her a minute until she registered that there had been a voice to accompany the steps at all before she looked up to him. “Hmm?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head with a sigh and moved over to the cupboards. “Did you happen to spot any liquor on your great search for bread?” he asked, beginning to rummage through them.

“No, but that sounds nice,” she absently answered with her full attention back on the book, flipping to another page. “If you find any, fix me some.”

He stopped moving, hands still on one of the cupboard knobs. “You just woke up,” Balthazar finally said, turning to look back at her.

It took Catherine another minute or so until she looked up to him again. “Huh?”

“Good lord,” he muttered to himself, turning back to his search. He couldn't wait for this to be over and done with.

She hardly had time to look away and turn back to her reading when a phone somewhere in the base started going off. Catherine immediately jumped off of her chair to chase after the sound, leaving Balthazar behind who only glanced down to her phone left beside the open book. As he followed her at a more leisurely pace, he picked it up and brought it with him.

Kevin had already answered the call, looking very confused when Cat barreled in on the scene. He looked to the tablet and his notes, shaking his head. “No, there hasn't been anything like that,” he told the voice on the other end. “It might just be a ruse or something. We could ask Crowley?”

Balthazar walked in to find the hunter practically jumping in spot, eager to know what the conversation was over. Kevin looked over to the both of them and just said, “Yeah, hold on.” He held out the phone and pressed a button. “You're on speaker, Dean. They're both here.”

“Cathy!” Dean's voice barked out of the phone. She was so on edge that she didn't bother correcting him again, so he continued. “Did you find anything about Springfield, Illinois?”

The men were silent as they looked to her very confused face. Catherine nearly blanched. “... What? No. Why?”

A voice in the background – Sam's – spoke up to his brother. “It probably wouldn't have modern place names.”

“Dammit,” Dean muttered, but came back quickly. “What about the cage in Hell? Location? Mortal world? All that jazz?”

She thought back to her readings. “It's... very big.” Dean groaned, but she stepped in before he could curse again. “No, I mean _very_ big. An average angel is at least over a thousand feet high by human standards and this thing is holding two archangels. They're much bigger than the normal ones and it's not exactly breaking at the seams or anything.”

Sam said something again that they couldn't hear, but apparently threw Dean into a tantrum. “Son of a bitch! It's as big as the freaking continent! They can't open the first door again, so they're opening another one! I- Dammit!”

“Another?” Catherine mumbled, not remembering anything about a second door in her books.

The Winchester's voice continued on in anger. “Balthazar, I swear-!”

“Don't look at me! I didn't know!” the angel jumped to defend himself. “All we knew about in regards to the cage was that you two were going to open it _once_. In case you forgot, Team Freewill here ripped the script apart.”

Dean growled. “Where's Cas?”

Bal rolled his eyes. “Hiding. As usual.”

“Fine,” the Winchester sighed, “Look, we think Abbadon's somewhere outside of Springfield. Me and Sam are already doubling back, but you're closer.”

Catherine grabbed her jacket off of the table that she had left there the night before, remembering that everything she owned was, thankfully, still back in the car. “That's where she's opening the cage?”

“We think so,” Dean's voice answered, sounding distracted for a moment. “You two can probably get there by tonight. Me and Sam won't be too far behind. It's recon only. Find Abbadon and don't do shit without us there.”

Balthazar frowned and looked around the room. “I can find Castiel.”

“Don't need him for this,” his voice said through the phone. “You and Catherine. I know you two can handle yourselves. It's the best we got right now.”

The angel growled and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Adjusting her jacket, Cat gave him a look of confusion before talking to the phone again. “We're gone, Dean.”

“Call when you get close. We'll rendezvous.” He hung up on the other end before anyone could say any words of parting. Not that it seemed to be on anyone's tongue.

Kevin looked up to the pair. Catherine had already turned to the entrance and Balthazar... looked a little furious, actually. “Anything I should do?” he asked her when the angel finally began to follow.

“What you've been doing,” she suggested, turning back for a brief second. “Watch the news for anything crazy, though. If you don't hear from anyone in about two days, I would probably ditch.” Balthazar silently tossed her phone to her, which she caught on reflex. The only thing she really did notice was that he seemed to be back in the same mood as before. Deciding to save it for later, she turned back to take the stairs two at a time, the angel quick on her heels.

“Be careful!”

A new voice stopped them both, and they looked over the balcony to see Castiel there, looking very worried. Not really knowing what to do with the well wishes, Cat gave the same look to him in return and continued on. Bal stayed in place for a second and looked to his brother, features finally softening a margin until he turned away and followed her.

* * *

It took a little over seven hours to get within Springfield's limits from the Men of Letters base. They had called the Winchesters, who instructed them to find Abbadon or any demons they could spot. Balthazar easily picked several out thanks to his ability to see them for what they were, so the two had followed them to an outcropping of trees off of the interstate. The angel argued that they should get any closer, so they sat still in the car. Catherine played with the fingers of one hand, occasionally biting at her thumb nail, while watching the wood intensely. The angel, still in his mood, watched with little interest and just propped his head against his arm that leaned on the car door.

She couldn't stand the silence or her partner's strange choices as of late, so she decided to bring up something that had bugged her hours earlier. “Why did you want Castiel to come instead?” Any topic was better than thinking about this stuff constantly.

Balthazar looked to her for a moment, but shifted in the passenger seat as he looked back to the trees again. “I didn't say I wanted him to come.”

“You wanted to look for him.” That alone was odd for him. He seemed to enjoy the fact that his brother always remained out of sight.

But he just shrugged as if it had been nothing. “Grace or not, he's still an angel. He knows plenty more about demons than humans do.”

It wasn't that she could really argue that, but she knew enough about demons to kill them and he should have known that by now. “So, you're wanting to work with him now?”

“Why are you trying to start a fight?” he asked almost angrily, still refusing to look to her.

“I'm not,” Catherine answered back, only getting more confused and a little hurt. “I'm just trying to... figure out what changed.”

His jaw twitched, but Balthazar rubbed at his chin and didn't answer. He had been more or less silent since they had set out, only bothering to speak up when absolutely needed, keeping anything he had to say sharp and to the point.

It was honestly bugging the hell out of her and was a far cry from the angel she originally set out on this journey with. She couldn't blame him if he was tense or worried about the archangels, but his actions weren't suggesting that was the problem. This mood swing of his came as quickly as it would leave. She didn't like it. Then again, if she had died and had to face her murderer, it would definitely cause problems, but... even that didn't seem to be the issue.

Catherine watched him for a moment until she looked away in thought. “Did you see him back there? Did he say something-”

“Who was he?” Bal cut her off. He didn't want to talk about Castiel, so he decided to switch to something else that had been on his mind. Considering his agitation with everything going on lately, he didn't mind finally bringing the issue up again.

Except that she just frowned in confusion. “He?”

Before she could jump to any conclusions regarding their former topic, he finally looked to her and elaborated. “The man in the pictures.” Something flashed across Catherine's eyes and she looked away to the trees again, but he refused to let it go this time. “You know, the one that would drive your car, share those male IDs with you. I can only assume he was a hunter or did it not stop there?”

Catherine bit the inside of her cheek to try and ignore that last question. “Why are you bringing him up?”

“Because I want to know!” Everything was telling him to stop. Her low tone, the look in her eyes, his own pain and doubts about the topic. Still, those same things spurred him on. A part of him wanted to find out even if it meant hurting her. If he hurt her enough, perhaps all of this would go away and he would only have his brothers to worry about again. He still regretted the outburst, though.

Catherine couldn't figure out if it hurt or annoyed her more, but she tried to quell any anger she had. It wouldn't do any good now, when they were supposed to be doing something else entirely. So much for professionalism. “Sidney,” she finally answered, though figured that it would have been best for everyone if she didn't speak at all. “His name is Sidney. Yes, we hunted together. It's how we met.”

He almost wanted to laugh, but it would have come out cynical. “Right, I've heard this story. Man saves woman. Woman devotes her life to aiding his every his need-”

“I saved _him_ ,” she corrected, shooting Balthazar a cruel glare that he more than deserved. “I didn't get to his friend in time, but I at least managed to save him.” She stayed quiet for a second, but decided to beat him to his own question. “Since you were going to ask anyway, we _were_ together.”

He wanted to say a lot of things. Things he would more than regret later and would probably make her stop talking to him at all. Still, he scoffed as if he had seen that coming a mile away. Of course he did, but the way he acted suggested that he came to the conclusion through different means. “What happened to paradise, then? Finally lost his interest?”

Closing her eyes, Catherine rubbed at her face and took a deep breath. “He died,” she told him. To any hunter, the answer would have probably been obvious, but she shifted in place despite that annoyance. “I got in trouble with some vampires and he died saving me.”

As much as Balthazar wanted to make a quip about his death at least being a good thing, he didn't. Instead, he shut that thought away when he glanced to her again, knowing that the memory had hurt her greatly. He had hurt her greatly, just like he wanted. His eyes closed and his hand swept across his face. “Sorry,” he mumbled out, half hoping that she didn't really hear. Much to his annoyance, the angel had hurt himself in the bargain, but he couldn't tell if it was because of what he had done, from the guilt she held that he couldn't fix, or from the extremely high possibility that she still loved this Sidney.

Her fingers slowly danced over the steering wheel, unintentionally forcing him to hide his eyes after opening them to keep from watching. “What's gotten into you?” Catherine asked quietly, not accusing, but not sounding very worried either. Not as worried as she had sounded before. Now it was just distant and he bit his tongue before answering.

“I don't know.” His voice didn't raise any higher than her own, but he knew that he was at least lying. He just didn't know what to do about it. Things seemed so much clearer the night before and now-... Now he was scared and he didn't know what to do. They shouldn't even be here. He should have left her in Sioux Falls. No, he should have knocked her out and drove them both somewhere far away. She would hate him. The world would hate him. The archangels would likely run free, but he left his post before for less reasons than-

Catherine sighed next to him, seeming to announce an end to the conversation and allowing the silence to come pass them again. She regretted trying to talk and he knew it. He hated it.

After a few minutes of neither of them moving, Catherine straightened up. “They're moving.”

Balthazar removed his hand to see the same shifting of shadows that she had, but his attention was drawn to something she couldn't see. “There's an angel with them.” Again, neither moved, but the tension in the car only grew heavier. “He said to stay put.”

She watched the shadows for a second more until they vanished back into the trees. “I know,” Cat muttered and opened her door.

 


	17. Apocalypse Rising

Balthazar moved right behind Catherine as they weaved through the trees. They were both trying to forget that the earlier conversation had even happened in order to keep their minds clear, but it wasn't exactly working out for them.

Suddenly, she stopped when the trail went cold, but the angel didn't even pause as he went around her. He could still see the other angel and demons through the foliage, even in the dark night. He also knew that they should have stayed behind. He should have raised a fuss about it with her or something because this screamed stupid. On the other hand, things didn't look quite right and taking a closer look was practically needed... and then there was the fact that he just didn't want to open his mouth again.

Bal stopped when he felt they were beginning to get too close, happy that Catherine stopped when he did... and feeling a little guilty because he didn't do the same for her less than five minutes ago. He pushed the thought aside. “Something's not right.”

“Can they see you?” she asked, looking around. She was on guard, ready for the ever possible ambush, but still just trying to keep any fear she held at bay.

“No, I'm-” Too weak to be seen by them. He bit his cheek and tried again. “It's something else. It feels like there's other angels here, but there's aren't any... and she's here.”

It took her a moment, but Catherine finally looked over to him. “Their graces?” When he nodded, she looked up to the moon in the sky. “We were supposed to have another day.”

“It was an old book,” he thought back, “and it'll technically be the sixteenth in a few minutes.”

“That's not how almanacs work,” she grumbled, trying very hard to keep her voice down. “What do we do?”

Leave. He wanted to make up an excuse for them to leave. It was the only thing he wanted to say and he couldn't peel it from his tongue. “Buy time until reinforcements arrive.”

“That's another three hours, at least,” she said, basically reading his thoughts. “It'll be too late.”

He really didn't like those words, but looked away from her again. “The angel,” Balthazar sighed, “She needs his grace and he needs to give it to her. Either we convince him or... kill him.

Catherine watched him for a moment and he could feel her critical eyes on him. After a pause, without bothering to ask if he was sure or not, she drew her angel blade and moved forward through the brush.

It took him a moment, but Balthazar bit his lip and called to her. “Wait.” At least his plan wasn't about leaving, as much as he wished it was.

* * *

Two demons sat down a crate that stretched to at least six foot in length where Abbadon pointed them to. They moved back into the trees upon her command as she looked up. The skies were clear in their small open space in the dense wood and the moon shined bright upon them. All she had to do now was wait just a few minutes more.

“So, you're Abbadon.” The demon in question turned to see a young man in gray business attire surrounded by her people. “I've heard a lot about you.”

She smiled back to him and waved her hand. “He's a guest, not a prisoner,” she told her demons happily, making them back off for the time being before she addressed him. “Ramiel, right? I'm glad that, for once, demons and angels could see eye to eye on something.”

Ramiel didn't smile back or approach her further. “When Michael is free, he will destroy Lucifer and the rest of your disgusting brothers.”

Her lips twitched, but the smile didn't diminish any. She did, however, begin to close the distance between them. “Well, maybe we can't see everything the same way, but I think I'll leave the betting pool where it is and let our masters decide on who wins.”

“If I wasn't confident,” he said with a grimace, “I wouldn't be here.”

“Neither would I.” They stared down each other for a moment until Abbadon's eyes flickered and she reached around to his back to catch the angel blade that nearly impaled him.

Ramiel jumped away, confused on the demon's actions, when a light and screaming caught his attention. Two lesser demons fell dead at another angel's feet. It took him a moment, but he finally addressed him. “Balthazar,” he gasped, “You're dead.”

“Not you two again,” Abbadon growled as Catherine showed herself through the trees, still holding a gun.

“Ramiel,” Bal's voice brought his brother's attention back to him and away from the human. “What are you doing? Those two are better off rotting in there than destroying everything else out here.”

“How dare you!,” the other nearly screamed back. “Michael is our brother. Peace on Earth is what our Father always wanted.”

“Then you would think He would have gotten it right the first time,” Bal argued back, steadily getting angrier with this. He didn't want to kill his brother. No more of them should die.

But Ramiel was having none of it. He fumed at such a remark. “Blasphemy!”

“Children!” Abbadon smirked, twirling the sword in her hand. “Let's not argue. Tonight's a big night.”

Catherine, for the first time since she appeared, spoke up. “Tonight?”

The demon looked back to her in a slight grimace, before putting a smile back on again. “Found Crowley, didn't you?” Catherine didn't answer, so Abbadon chuckled. “It's not a particular date I need. The moon just has to be right... and it is.”

The hunter's face fell from the strong look she portrayed. Abbadon was right. Enough time would have passed by now... Catherine swallowed a lump in her throat and rubbed her wrist against the second blade hidden in her sleeve.

The Knight backed away closer to the box, but as the women glared to each other, so did the men. “Ramiel,” Bal spoke again. “Don't do this. Please, don't do this. I'm begging you. They'll destroy everything.”

“I am loyal, Balthazar,” he answered in turn. “Loyal to my family– to my Father. You always, _always_ questioned. I will not betray my Father and brothers for these... flawed beasts.” He motioned to Catherine, but she didn't show any acknowledgment. “I can't even begin to understand how you can.”

“Brother-,” Balthazar growled, but was cut off by Ramiel shaking his head.

“No,” he simply answered. “I'm not abandoning. I'm not you.”

The other angel clenched his jaw, balancing between anger and frustration, as Abbadon turned away from them and kicked the lid off of the crate. Inside lay a rotted body of a man that had died years ago and four glowing crystals that were all attached to one cord.

All Catherine could see from it was a light glow, but it still didn't take her two guesses to figure out what was in there. Balthazar had tried, so it was her turn now. He may be angry, but she wasn't going to risk this any further. She grabbed the hilt of the second angel blade and threw it for Ramiel's chest.

Things happened so quickly. As soon as the other demons in the clearing realized what Catherine was doing, they lunged for her but stopped short when they were already too late. Abbadon quickly twisted around to face Ramiel again, right as the blade pierced him through the back. At this, Balthazar tried to run forward and stop her, but he was too far away.

The demon held her hand to the angel's neck as his grace began pouring forth, but the blinding light of his death cut any of his plans short. Bal had stopped about halfway to them when Abbadon dropped Ramiel's body, the small bit of his grace that she had managed to salvage pooling at her feet. “That'll have to do,” she sneered, before looking up to Catherine. “Kill them.”

The demons closest to her moved for the hunter who, thankfully, still held the pistol in her hands. She fell two before they even had the chance to touch her, but even the unlucky fool that managed to grab and pull her back was shot dead.

Balthazar ran for Abbadon immediately as she reached into the box and pulled out the thread of graces, but three demons hit him at once like a brick wall to push him back. Another took the angel sword from Ramiel's back and ran for the remaining angel while two others tried to hold him down for the killing blow.

Abbadon threw the crystals to the ground, releasing the graces to mix with the piece of the fifth. She looked back into the coffin with an excited smirk as she knelt and placed the sword she had caught from Catherine against her throat.

Balthazar tried to back away from the approaching demon, but found it no use against the ones holding him. He could break free, of course, but a glance to their leader told him that he didn't have time. A white glow began to pulse from his vessel. “Catherine!” he screamed, knowing it was enough of a warning before the light engulfed the area.

She hardly had a second to close her eyes, but the cry of her name and the soft glow was enough of an indicator. The screams and smell of burning flesh that soon followed proved her guess was right. As soon as the light died away, though, her eyes flew open again to see the bodies surrounding her with the few shocked stragglers and Abbadon kneeling next to coffin with her arms raised skyward, the bloody sword falling from one hand and tumbling away.

Balthazar was back to his feet immediately and, even though he had taken in the scene, he still ran for it as Catherine did after grabbing the angel sword from the dead demon. Instead of intercepting the Abbadon, though, his arms wrapped the hunter who fought against him.

“It's too late!” he screamed to her as the Knight's body fell to the side and her blood began to circle the graces and absorb them. Balthazar adjusted to hold her arm with one hand and pull her back. “We need to leave.”

Cat glared at him for a split second as she continued to struggle. “We can still do something! It's not too late! We-”

“We have to go _now_!” he argued back. Picking her up or something was out of the question. She had to run on her own or they wouldn't get far enough away in time.

A demon moved into their path, gaining both of their attention. “You're not going any-”

Balthazar let Catherine go long enough to wrap his hand around the demon's throat to exorcise him and throw him several feet out of the clearing and into a tree. The angel turned back to her. “Catherine!”

She glanced from the dead demon to Balthazar and finally to the last of the grace spilling into the circlet of blood on the ground. With a curse and a haggard breath, she picked up the blade Abbadon sacrificed herself with and began to run. The angel stayed beside her, and together they cleared away any demons that tried to block their path, but most that lived had already ran away.

Soon there were no demons trying to stop them and they just ran through the trees without any clear direction or path. She didn't know what to expect from this, but two archangels rising from Hell couldn't have been anything good. Still, if Balthazar's plan was to try getting away from them, she couldn't foresee that working very well. It wasn't like she was arguing anymore, though. She just ran with him, trying to not go into a full state of panic.

The angel, on the other hand, knew that they weren't going to get away in time. If his damn wings- If his wings were healed then a lot of this wouldn't have been an issue. The only safe place now was Heaven and he would take her there in a heartbeat if he could. It wasn't supposed to be allowed, but who was going to tell him otherwise? He would let the angels burn the world and spend the rest of eternity on an island surrounded by a sea of glass with her annoying, stubborn self right beside him.

That wasn't an option now, so instead he grabbed her arm again and pulled them both to the ground beside a large oak. A light had already started pouring through the trees from where they came and the ground beneath them started to tremble.

“Balthazar.”

Her voice was hardly a breath against him. Everything had gone silent and still she sounded low, weak, and afraid... He was scared, too... Quickly, Bal wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. “Don't look,” he whispered into her hair even as he still watched the light. “Don't do anything until I tell you to, okay?”

Her only sign of affirmation was a light nod as she buried her face into his collar and moved her arm to wrap around his neck and hold him to her. He placed his hand lightly on the back of her head to keep her there and waited as a couple very intense seconds ticked by.

He tried to will up enough of his strength to protect them as much as possible, but the blast that erupted from the cage still made him falter slightly. Even so, he gazed up into the now bright sky as a pillar of light spilled over the area. Then another beam joined the first that was so bright even the angel had to squint at it before completely looking away. He wrapped his arms tighter around Catherine and buried his face into the crook of her neck.

His strength didn't waver again, at least not enough for her to get hurt, but it still took at least a solid ten seconds before the ground stopped shifting and the light finally vanished. Balthazar opened his eyes, finding himself nearly blinded while his eyes tried to adjust again. Cat still stayed in place as he risked a glance to where the cage had opened and the fear struck him stronger than it had before. He could see them both, just as beautiful and horrifying as the day they were locked away with only slight scarring between the two of them. Worst of all, was the sight of the first archangel's wings...

Michael fell with his vessel. Lucifer, though, didn't have one aside from the corpse Abbadon had provided... which could have easily been the vessel he used to walk the Earth before.

He was only stalling in thought. The archangels either already knew he was there and they were going to figure it out very very soon. He needed a plan and didn't even dare to think that perhaps they would over look him. With no time to lose, Balthazar tugged at the hunter in his arms. “We need to run. Come on.”

Catherine pulled away from him quickly to glance back, but the angel had her to her feet in an instant and they were running again. They had only gone a few yards before he stopped her and looked back. She glanced back for a split second, too, before looking to him again. When he looked down to her, Bal could see the same look in her eyes she had the day before without the fear and panic. She trusted him and he took a breath to steady himself before speaking.

“We have to split up.”

Of course, her eyes instantly widened a fraction. “Split up? You never want to-”

“It's the only way,” he stressed, hands moving to her shoulders even as she tried to object. “If they have to search after both of us, they won't. They're too preoccupied with themselves right now. You'll go east and I'll go west. Catherine-” Bal shook her a little to gain her full attention again and to make her look him in the eyes. Cat did calm a little even as her fear seemed to intensify, but she still didn't dare to speak when he seemed so resolute on doing this. “It'll be okay, I promise,” he told her quietly, “Do you trust me?”

The pained look on her face made him want to grasp her tighter again, but Balthazar abstained even if he refused to break eye contact. After a few shaken breaths, she gave a tight, short nod and he couldn't help his grip becoming a little firmer. “It'll be okay,” he said again, but still didn't part. His jaw tightened and he just looked at her for a moment, wishing that she would at least look like she believed his lie instead of being frightened in that precious moment. But she looked at him as if she knew what he really did mean to do and he could not for the life of him bring himself to let her go.

“I'll see you soon?” Her voice broke him from his thoughts and he nodded before even fully considering the question. She nodded a few times before lightly taking a step back, but even if his hands had left her, she still would have hesitated.

Balthazar knew that he had to part away first, so he steeled himself and gave one more tight nod. “Just run,” he said before finally letting go and turning away along his own path. Catherine didn't even watch after him as she turned and ran east as she was told.

The angel gave himself thirty seconds, then after that he gave himself thirty more until it became too much and he finally began to slow his pace. Eventually, he stopped and looked back through the dense wood in the direction they had parted, willing to see her again already or, at least, a glimpse of her soul that he had become so fond of and attached to.

Suddenly, a chill overtook him that couldn't be mistaken for anything else in all of creation and fear held him once more. It wasn't as piercing as it was before, but it was enough to make all thought cease. Balthazar slowly turned his head to find his brother nestled inside of his former, lesser vessel.

Lucifer leaned against a tree with arms crossed and lips _almost_ daring to turn up into a fond little smirk. “That was pretty chivalrous of you, Balthazar, but I don't think anyone's going to get out of this okay. Do you?”

 


	18. Proverbs 14:12

“ _I'll see you soon?”_

Catherine slowed her speed and dared to glance behind her. This was stupid. This was so ridiculously stupid. He never wanted to split up. How did it suddenly begin to sound like a good idea when two archangels were after them?

She remembered what he tried to do at that hotel when they fought against the torrent of ghosts, but pushed the thought from her mind. Stupid, yes, but melodramatic was something that Balthazar was not. He promised it would be okay and he told her that they would meet up soon. He told her like an adult tells a child when they're all about to die, but she pushed that from her mind, too. It would be okay... and he wasn't stupid enough to act like a sacrificial knight or something. Not for a human that was there and gone again in the blink of an eye to someone so ancient. It had to be okay.

So, Catherine kept running for a little while more, forcing herself to trust him and not turn back, but a sound – a flourish of large wings – startled her into stopping completely. Cat tried to calm her breathing, but she could hear her heart beating so loud that it really didn't matter. Her eyes darted around through the darkness until they landed on a young man, younger than her, who wasn't standing there a moment ago.

“Hello, Catherine.”

* * *

Balthazar stared at Lucifer, not daring to move or breathe. This was his goal, after all. Of course they would come for an angel so close by. Yet, as the silence wore on between them and the archangel pushed away from the tree, he realized that he never heard the sound of wings. Michael had yet to follow.

Lucifer slowly walked closer, rubbing his chin. “Wow,” he breathed, voice rough as gravel, “The years have not been good to you, little brother. Your grace is weak, your wings are shredded, _and_ you're running around with a human? You never liked them.” He stopped about a foot away from the other angel and crossed his arms, as if looking for an explanation.

Balthazar just watched him closely and didn't even try to act lighthearted and friendly. It didn't work the last time he was in a dire situation; it certainly wasn't going to work this time. Instead, he chose to answer his brother, which was likely a wise choice. “I still don't like them.”

“I've met a lot of people,” the elder replied, shaking his finger to the younger one with a tiny smirk, “and you are still one of the worst liars I have ever seen.” Balthazar didn't speak up, so Lucifer just tucked his arm away again. “I wouldn't worry, honestly. You can still save her life if you really wanted to, but I do hope you realized that acting all heroic wasn't going to be enough.”

Answering the archangel was better than nothing, but lying to him? Balthazar knew he could see right through others, so it was best to try being honest this time. “She's not a part of this. It's my fault she's here at all, and she's weak. Ignorant of most of our abilities.”

Lucifer just nodded back, making the younger catch the hint and stop talking. “You done?” the devil asked sarcastically. “You care about her. That makes her a part of this.

Yes, that was clue enough. The angel clenched his jaw, but didn't say anything for a moment. Lucifer watched him expectantly, tilting his head back slightly in wait with the same little smirk. Balthazar clenched his fist and relaxed his arm once- twice before finally asking, “What do you want?”

There it was. He could hardly contain a grin, but contain it he did. “You really have changed for the worst, little brother,” he mocked, but wiped at his hands and moved a little closer, “but let's talk business. My demons are scattered. The angels are weak. I mean, we could still fight it out, but the whole thing won't really have that apocalyptic swing about it, you know? A war needs soldiers, but since there don't really seem to be any, we're going to have to make do with what we have.” Balthazar still didn't speak during the pause, so he continued. “The only way to make this work is if we both have enough power to equal the armies of Heaven and Hell. It works out, doesn't it?”

“Why do you insist on taking the world with you?” Balthazar asked in a moment of courage and anger. “Why not just stab each other and get it done with? For pity's sake.”

Satan's eyes flashed, but he didn't move. “Do you really think you're in a position to talk to me that way?” The other went quiet again and Lucifer waited for any further outburst, but there was only silence. “It's the apocalypse, Balthazar. It needs to be apocalyptic. We missed the schedule, so we might as well do a good job.”

He paused again in his speech, not really surprised when the younger angel spoke up once more. “There doesn't seem to be a lot of incentive for me if you're going to destroy it all, anyway.”

“There is. I promise.” Lucifer gave him another soft smile. “You haven't even heard my terms yet.”

Balthazar ground his teeth, trying very hard to stop himself from saying something that his brother would consider rude. He clenched his fist and relaxed another time, just opting to wait in silence.

Finally, Lucifer took a deep breath. “I want your grace, as structurally unsound as it is,” he finally said. “Really, it's not even because I want it, but if I don't get it, then Michael will and then he'll be one step ahead me. I can't really have that.” The angel just looked shocked, but still didn't say anything. The other shifted in place. “Right, my terms. Give me your grace, so that maybe I can get a little bit of strength out of the thing and I'll let her live for the next few months until the big fight. If you don't give it to me, then I'll just take it and drag her happy ass straight to Hell. She must be stubborn if she's been putting up with you and I'll need something to clear my head once everything's said and done.”

Balthazar just stared at him for a long moment in shock and confusion. His grace? Again? Is that all these people wanted? “You really expect me to believe that I'll live to see you hold up your end of this fool's bargain?”

“Oh, no, no.” Lucifer waved his hand shook his head. “Either way, you're dead. It all depends on her right now. You have to admit, it is a good deal.” The angel just stared at him in disbelief again. “You should make up your mind quick. In case you haven't noticed, our dear big brother isn't here. I'm to assume that you're on a time limit.”

For the first time, Balthazar looked away from Lucifer to glance through the trees. A beat of silence passed in which he couldn't see anything, so he slowly looked back to the archangel who had his arms crossed again, waiting patiently. He turned away again. There was at least a point here. He didn't have much time at all to decide on a choice and trying to do something different to save both of them would not turn out well. The choice was obvious, but aiding in the apocalypse and dying all in one fell swoop was not pleasing to the ear. Still... the choice was obvious and Balthazar, filled with terror, looked back up to his brother again.

The edge of Lucifer's lips twisted up for a brief moment, until they both heard the sound of wings and he frowned again. Balthazar's frightened eyes glanced over his brother's shoulder and Satan very nearly growled until-

“Bargaining with the lives of lovers is so sixteenth century, Lucy.”

Correcting the statement was the last thing on Balthazar's mind as the one in question slowly turned around to face the new speaker. “Gabriel.” He muttered the name beneath his breath and just took the moment to look his brother over, noting the drawn sword. “The fall wasn't very good to you either, I see.”

“Neither was getting stabbed through the heart, you dick.” There was no smile on Gabriel's face or in his voice as he spoke. He was completely serious this time, not that he could be blamed for it. While his wings were torn apart, they weren't nearly as bad off as most angels that had fallen, at least giving him the advantage of traveling short distances. It helped in getting ahead of the Winchesters, but they weren't going to be able to help now. Instead, Gabriel gripped his sword and motioned his head to the east, his eyes not leaving Satan. “Go get your girlfriend, Balthy. I got this.”

Lucifer raised his hand. “No, Balthy,” he mimicked, “Don't go.”

“You have more to worry about now than just one angel's grace,” Gabriel spoke up angrily and tilted his head to the younger angel again. “Go.”

Lucifer lowered his hand to look at his brother in disbelief. It still took another moment before Balthazar did as told and began to run back the way he came. They waited in silence until he was well out of earshot before the devil talked again. “Do you realize how valuable your own grace is right now, brother?”

“Shut up,” he growled back, hefting the short sword in front of him.

* * *

It wasn't that he was too far away to see Michael or that he was too weak. The archangel was hiding from sight, making finding his location impossible. What was worse was that he couldn't see Catherine's soul in all of this, which actually did attribute to him being too weak.

Balthazar ran through the trees, not really sure if he was going so fast because he wanted to get to her or to get away from them. Gabriel wasn't a match for Lucifer last time, but-

He eventually slowed, realizing that he should have spotted at least a glimpse of her soul by now. He had gone too far for too long, unless she left the wood entirely. With Michael around, he doubted that was the case. Then why couldn't he find her soul and why was the archangel hiding? Balthazar tried to swallow, the throat of his vessel having gone dry. He would have known if the worst had happened. He would have known somehow. She was too important, too special.

He continued moving again, but slower this time, listening to the world around him. Nature was still silent, still reeling from the overwhelming presence of all of these creatures in one area. It wouldn't be hard to hear a human... one would think.

His footfalls slowed again as he did begin to hear something through the trees, knowing he was close. Slowly, he changed his direction from east to north and listened harder for more sounds, eyes slowly closing as he allowed his senses to guide him. A light wind passing through the trees. The short rustle of dead leaves and grass shifting on the forest bed. Then the sound he had first heard, an intake of air, but this one was immediately followed by a very low choked sob.

Balthazar's eyes opened and he was running again. As much as he desperately wanted to call out to her, he knew that she was close and attracting possible unwanted attention would do no one any favors. So, he ran – practically flew – to the sound, but was forced to drive himself to a halt when a wall of flames suddenly rose before him.

The fire quickly died down to the height of his knees as he realized that it was no wall but a ring completely circling around him. Holy Fire. A trap. Balthazar looked up with the complete assumption that he would see his brother, but instead finally found Catherine. She laid on her back, hardly a foot away from him, with one arm gripping tightly across her abdomen and the other clawing into the already marred earth. She was covered in blood and he couldn't tell where the wounds started on her abdomen and arms or where they ended, but as much blood as there was pooling around her, she was still alive. So much so, that she twisted her head around far enough to catch sight of the flames licking the air.

Michael appeared between them, hands folded in front of him as he stood straight and tall, but it still took the other angel a moment to even glance to him. “Hello, Balthazar,” he addressed his brother, but frowned at the hated and shocked look he was receiving. Michael glanced to his side at the human before looking back. “To my credit, if she had screamed like I had told her to, this wouldn't have had to go as far as it did... But here we are, anyway.”

Catherine choked, blood pouring from the edges of her lips. She wouldn't look up to him – it was hard to see anything through the darkness except for the fire – but her hands still clenched for want of an archangel's neck. Less than a moment ago, the pain and will to keep quiet had stopped her from focusing on the rest of the world. Now it was the only thing distracting her. She didn't know what Michael had wanted Balthazar for, but it was nothing good. Yet he was here now, having not completely abandoned her like she had begun to think and secretly hoped for, so she waited for things to just run their course and get it over with.

“I see Gabriel's arrived,” Michael spoke while waiting for Balthazar to calm down a bit and gain his senses. “I'm sure Raphael isn't too far away, as well. That's good. They can be useful.” The trapped angel calmed enough, but still didn't speak. Right, well... he continued. “I'm sure Lucifer's filled you in. He does love to talk.”

“Is this what you do now, Michael?” he finally spoke up. “Torture humans for your own selfish gain? Let her go.”

“Selfish?” The other looked shocked by such an accusation for a moment. “This is for peace on Earth. Peace in Heaven. I will do what I have to for those goals to be met, you know that. Or have you enjoyed watching the world plunge into chaos? Seeing our brothers fall from our home? Watching them be slaughtered like animals? I will not let her go.”

Michael waited, but no remark came. It looked like Balthazar was getting tired of all this, so he cut to the chase. “Give me your grace and I'll heal her- let her live,” he offered, “Don't give it to me and, well, I'll continue what I was doing earlier. I won't kill her yet... I won't kill you no matter what you decide. If you choose to not give me your grace, I'll even let you go. I'd prefer no more angels die.”

Catherine tried to look at the angels again, tried to focus on the two of them, but to no real avail. His grace? That's what this was about? That didn't even make sense. Worst of all, Balthazar was still silent and she couldn't see his features, not that she could tell on a normal day what he was thinking. Breathing alone had become a chore, but she tried to not make any sounds while he made a decision. It shouldn't be that hard.

Balthazar, on the other hand, glared back to his eldest brother for a long minute until he finally spoke, or growled rather. “You've spent far too long in Hell, Michael.”

“No thanks to you, so I've heard,” the other responded just as coolly as he had been the whole time. “Instead of waiting until after the war, I could choose to exact your punishment here, but I won't. I don't believe in forcing others to suffer for the crimes of the insubordinate, even if they are human. Consider this getting off lucky.”

Something on this scale was certainly not unheard of by Michael, but it still felt wrong to go through this anyway. Balthazar continued to glare at him, but it was literally the only thing he could do about it. He could leave, of course, and try to hide from Lucifer, but they both knew who had won. Losing his grace wasn't something that... he had ever wanted to do by any stretch of the imagination. This called for losing more than just a part of himself, but while he was in the middle of thinking out the outcome, he had already reached out his hand to the edge of the ring. “Take it.”

Catherine immediately shifted, reminding herself that moving right now was still incredibly painful. She bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could, not for the first time that night, to stifle a pained whine, but she finally managed to at least choke out something. “No.” She hoped he could understand or even hear her speak, if she was managing to speak at all and it wasn't just some hallucination. But he did hear and Balthazar's eyes glanced down to her in surprise, though she couldn't see it. After a breath of air that scraped against her raw throat, she tried speaking a little louder and clearer this time to no real avail. “No. Don't. Just-”

Her words were broken off by a scream, her body going into convulsions.

The archangel watched her tiredly, softly chiding beneath his breath. “Shhhh.”

“Michael!” Balthazar yelled to his brother, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“The adults are talking,” he continued to mutter.

“ _Michael!_ ” Finally, the archangel looked back to the other and Catherine's screams died down to sobs then silence as her eyes glazed over, body still twitching in convulsions, but unmoving. Her soul was still there, though, so Balthazar hardly wasted a second glance to her. “You can have it! Just take it!”

She couldn't even see the fire now, but she could still hear him. Her lips moved slightly, but it was the only objection she could manage anymore before slipping away to unconsciousness. A sign that the archangel no longer needed her.

The Holy Fire finally died down around him, but he still hesitated for a moment. Balthazar had no way of killing or harming Michael, but the urge to slam his fist through the archangel's chin was still quite strong. Instead, he jerked his hand out as the other took his sweet time approaching before clasping their arms together.

It took a moment before a white glow began rising from the lesser angel, slowly lighting up the surrounding area. With reluctance, Balthazar gripped his brother's arm harder and lightly tilted his head back to open his mouth, the bright white smoke quickly pouring forth. Michael took it in with one deep breath, but the power still flowing between their arms was too much to let go of right then. The grace was weak and wounded, so every ounce of power he could get was worth digging away despite how painful it probably was for the other. Eventually, the light began to die down, but Michael still didn't let go even after Balthazar fell to his knees. He allowed their arms to finally slip away from each other as the former angel fell to the ground.

Michael looked to his hand and then up to the trees to see Lucifer standing there in anger. Neither spoke a word until, at length, they both vanished.

* * *

The sky had started to change hues and the wildlife was finally beginning to roam the forest again when something finally shoved against the unconscious man's arm.

“Bal.” Catherine's voice was still weak and raw, but Michael had more or less healed all of her major wounds. Still, she practically had to drag herself to get beside Balthazar when all she wanted to do was sleep. But her angel never slept. Cat flipped him over on to his back and shook him harder, voice more desperate this time. “Balthazar.” He still hadn't moved and she was getting increasingly closer to slapping him. “Wake up! _Balthazar!_ ”

He jolted from her scream, but only frowned and moaned once he was awake. The pain was not nearly as intense as he remembered, but there was definitely a wound there, leaving him to feel only a deep chasm of void running through his body... His very heavy, weary, aching and _cold_ body. After a few breaths of the rich air, he became aware of something touching him and he finally opened his eyes.

The world had changed. The stars were dimly lit in the sky above and he suddenly felt very claustrophobic and blind, but other things – more colors, deeper textures – were rich and vibrant as if he were seeing them for the first time. Then he looked to Catherine, immediately startled that he could no longer see the remnants of her bright soul, but he could see her body, face, eyes even more clearly than before. She was crying and, for a moment, looked as if she was going to lash out in anger, but her eyes closed and he couldn't read this different emotion.

Catherine slowly bowed down until her head found his chest and she stayed there, lightly shaking. Balthazar just watched her – skin and clothes still speckled with dead leaves and dried blood – before looking up to the brilliant sky again, his hand finding the back of her head and tangling into her hair.

 


	19. The Only Thing We Have To Fear

“Dammit!” Dean pressed end call on his phone as hard as he could. “Why in the hell aren't they answering. I _told_ them-”

“We don't know anything, yet, Dean,” Sam tried to say from the passenger seat. He was pretty sure he couldn't convince his brother to not worry, because it was hard to convince himself. They had been trying to call for the last two hours without any answer. The sun was now beginning to climb a little higher in the sky as they sped towards Catherine and Balthazar's last known location.

Sam was taking deep breaths. Dean was fuming.

“Crazy ass angels, man,” he began gripping again. “He probably ditched or something.”

The younger one grimaced. “You really think she would have gone for that?”

“I don't know!” Dean burst, “I don't know her! All I know is that she hangs out with _him_ and we're not exactly on great speaking terms right now!”

“Okay, okay.” Sam straightened up in his seat. “It was only a recon job, though. Nothing's going on until tonight. There's still time.”

The other was about to reply again until the undeniable sound of large wings made him pause. He glanced into the rear view mirror to see the Trickster smirking back at him.

“How's it hangin', boys?”

The car swerved across the opposite lane with shrieking brakes until it finally came to rest in the ditch, narrowly missing a nearby tree. Dean and Sam turned in their seats so fiercely, that they were more likely to get whiplash from that than the off-roading.

Gabriel raised his hands in surrender. “I guess the best time for Jesus to take the wheel would be when there's an archangel in the car with you, yeah?” He smiled, but only received the same stunned and horrified faces from before. No laughs here it seemed. He just frowned and waved his hand. “We need to talk. And can we keep going, please? I'm kinda in a hurry, too.”

* * *

Aside from making sure both of them were more or less unhurt, the walk out of the forest was silent. So much so that Balthazar thought he'd go mad. It wasn't even just the fact that she was keeping quiet about the whole ordeal, but he was finding being suddenly thrust into humanity very hard to cope with. He wanted to talk just to hear his head roar with the sound of something, anything, making some sort of noise that could be counted as a distraction to... everything, but he didn't. He could read her even with his senses stunted and Catherine didn't seem to be doing much better than he was. Her head was kept low and she walked slowly, stumbling in slow motion. Her mind was elsewhere. He shuttered to think where. Yet he didn't speak due to a fear that he couldn't really pin down.

They kept walking on through the thinning trees until Catherine finally looked up and stopped walking, seeing the car still sitting there with the sun's light bouncing off of the paint. It took her a moment to realize her companion had stopped walking, too. Right. She nodded a few times, begging herself to keep going forward, and finally started walking again... After a few paces, she stopped. Balthazar hadn't followed her this time.

“Catherine.” His voice was low and more troubled than she ever heard him speak before. “What are we doing?”

It took her some time to even so much as shift in place after the question. Eventually, she half turned to face him better, but still didn't look up to him. “We-” She cleared her throat again, voice still hoarse and painful. “We need fix it.”

It was silent again as he waited for her to explain further or move on or do something instead of just stand there. “Fix it?” he urged her on.

She sharply nodded several times again, continuing some even as she spoke. “Fix it... Find the Winchesters. Get your grace back. Sto-... Stop them... Fix it.”

Cat wasn't stable. He could see that much. She almost looked shaky and scared, not to mention that she was just... too generalized about that grand plan of hers, but she knew all of this at the same time and that just made it all so much worse. “How?” It was a stupid question, because he knew that she had no idea. That wasn't why he asked, though. He didn't want her to stay in this state. He wanted her to come back.

She didn't move for a moment. Just moved her hands on her hips and looked at the ground. “I'll figure it out.”

He blinked twice before answering back. “... _You_ will?”

“I'll figure it out,” she said quieter, nodding again.

Of course, Balthazar had no way of knowing her meaning and they hadn't really known each other all that long in the grand scheme of things, but he still knew and he still didn't like it. He shifted in place, licking his lips and looking over to the horizon, before finally growling, “I'm human, not useless.”

Another silence passed between them and when she finally spoke, her voice was so low that he wondered if she even meant for him to hear it at all. “I know that,” Catherine muttered.

He waited for his temper to die down rather than for her to say anything else. It was clear she wasn't going to anyway. Balthazar bit his cheek and shifted again, realizing that he really didn't know what to do with his hands. He was cold, tired, hurting, and his emotions felt like they had been pumped into overdrive. The way they changed directions in such intense manners was unlikeable to him, especially now with so much going on. It was hard to really think rationally anymore.

Finally, he took a deep breath and realized it actually did help a little now. He had to try. “We need to talk about what hap-”

“No!” Such an outburst from her while she had been like this since sunrise gave him pause, but she waved her hand and looked up to the sky as if she knew it, too. “No. It's fine. It's over. It happened. I'll fix it.”

“You said _we_ will fix it,” he growled again. That anger was clawing to come back, but he had no desire to stifle it again.

She just nodded. Again. “It'll get fixed.” And she never looked at him. Balthazar ground his teeth as she turned away from him and continued speaking while moving to the car. “We just have to keep going and find the boys again. We'll fix it.”

Suddenly, the _we_ held new meaning. “Catherine.” She didn't stop walking. “ _Catherine!_ ” She stopped that time. He closed his eyes, trying very hard to not really start screaming about all of this. “We will fix it,” he finally ground out, opening his eyes again, “Me and you. I won't stand by while you run off with the boys who are infamous for killing all of their allies. How did you even think I would agree to something like that?”

She shifted and looked around before finally turning to look at him. Finally. He bit his cheek harder and tasted copper. “You didn't have to agree,” she told him with anger and a coldness he didn't know she possessed. “You're human now. You don't know what that means. Everything's changed. Not just how you see things or smell things or whatever the hell angels do. You're vulnerable to everything and you need to stay safe until-... until we can fix it.” She looked away from him again and back to the ground at his feet. “It's my fault and I need to make sure it's fixed.”

As much as he did listen to her side, he couldn't help but turn his head and twitch his jaw to that last part. “This is not your fault. It's Michael's.”

He was surprised when she looked back up to him again with such an unreadable face. Most of all, he hated that he couldn't read her like this, but couldn't tell if it was because of him or the situation. Her next words took his mind off of that. “You didn't have to do what he said.”

Words like that had a lot of potential, especially to start making him scream just how he tried to not do a moment ago. Balthazar licked his lips again, but didn't break eye contact this time. “Are you placing the blame on me now?” She looked away, but his voice rose anyway. “What should I have done? Left?” He expected something. Another outburst or maybe she would start walking away again. Maybe she would start screaming first or perhaps she would walk right up to him and hit him. Something. What she did do was exactly the thing he didn't expect.

Nothing.

She didn't move; didn't answer; didn't even seem to breathe. It wasn't anger he felt this time. It was something cold spreading through his chest and threatened to choke him. “Do you wish I had?”

Catherine's eyes fluttered closed and she bit her lip. It took a moment, but she did look back to him again, trying to muster up the same defensive expression. It didn't really work this time. Even her voice sounded a bit broken and hurt. “Yes.” It was short and true, but she wasn't sure if she should have said it or not.

He stared back at her, trying to figure out if this was even the real world or one of those dreams that humans always had. He couldn't believe it and just waited for a confirmation that she actually meant something else or said something else, but- Balthazar smiled and let out a little laugh. “I saved you.” She looked down to the ground and closed her eyes, as if she were hoping to crawl inside of herself. His smiled twitched away and bled to anger, then he finally started screaming. “I saved your life, you ungrateful bitch!”

She looked up to him again and he was at least happy that he could read the expression on her face this time. Anger. “Why?”

He faltered. Why? _Why?_ “What?”

“Why in the hell did you save me?” she screamed back, throwing her arms up.

He was stunned for a moment. “Because you're my damn friend, that's why!” It was the only response he could dig up in the moment and he didn't want to get any deeper than that.

She fidgeted in place for a second, hands moving from her face to her forehead. “No, I'm not,” she finally answered back, tone back to normal again. The words caught him so off guard that he didn't answer back as she moved closer. “I'm human! I- Why don't you-” She stopped again for a second, still moving around like she didn't know what to do with the rest of her body as she tried to speak up. “I'm human,” she tried again, looking up to him. “You're an angel. You're supposed to be- Why don't you get it? Why don't you understand? I'm just a human. I'm like an insect to you. I'm nothing to you! Why would you-”

“After all of that, you're going to do this now?” This was... ridiculous. And such a ridiculous notion. He wasn't even sure where she had gotten it from. “After _all_ of- After _everything_! I should have just let you die? Is that it? I should have let him torture and kill you when I could have done something about it? Do you think I'm that sick and heartless?”

She was shaking. “I'm _human..._! Why don't you get it? I'm human! You're supposed to be an angel, and now you're a human, too! Humans _die_!” He lurched away like she had hit him, but she continued before he could rebuke her. “Angels are supposed to be immortal. If they're careful, they'll be safe. You could have lived forever. You had a second chance... You had a second chance and you blew it on a human who's going to die _anyway_...! Hunters don't last long. I will die. If we don't get your grace back, it doesn't matter what we do. You'll die, too!”

Balthazar didn't answer or do anything really. He just stood there and looked back at her like she had actually struck him. She didn't know if the point had sunk in or if he even considered such a thing before agreeing to Michael's blackmail. In fact, his silence – the whole two seconds of it – was just making her angry again.

So, Catherine spoke up again, wanting-... begging for any sort of reaction out of him at all, but backed away a step first. “So,” she took a breath and met his eyes, unable to stop fidgeting around, “was your human friend worth the next several billions of years?” A completely rhetorical question, but a part of her wondered if he would actually answer.

There was a response dancing across his tongue, but even he wasn't entirely sure what it was, so he bit down on his teeth harder and stayed silent while watching her... On the other hand, saying nothing was worse. He grimaced and took a breath to answer, when a familiar black Impala entered his vision as it came down the road. She looked back to it as he did, but he glanced back to her before she could realize it. She was tired. Incredibly saddened. He remembered the story of how her lover had died.

Balthazar cast his eyes downward and didn't say anything.

Familiar wings sounded beside them and Catherine jumped back in fright. The other didn't move. He knew who it was. Gabriel, remembering that the female hunter had yet to meet him, raised his arms in surrender for the second time that day, but she calmed once she realized Bal wasn't reacting. Speaking of-

The archangel looked over and then stared at the other man in shock, a pained expression taking his features. Finally, Balthazar looked up and met his eyes, but only reflected a seriousness of the situation and not the remorse that was expected of him.

By now, car doors to the black car slammed a good distance away from the Challenger, right before Dean and Sam hurriedly jogged closer. Gabriel had filled them in on the gist, but they didn't know if they were supposed to be expecting the other two walking around like ghosts or two dead bodies in the woods. “What happened?” Dean asked first. Michael and Lucifer weren't there, that was for sure, but something definitely went down. The boys glanced between the other two before looking at Gabriel, who was still watching his younger brother.

Catherine cleared her throat and spoke, glancing up to the angel a couple of times. “Abbadon opened the cage. They got away.”

“What's wrong with your voice?” Sam asked her, immediately noting how weak and scratchy it sounded. She looked up to him dangerously, shifted, and looked down again. The Winchesters glanced back over to the angels, wanting a better explanation now.

But Gabriel and Balthazar still stared down each other as if they were having a conversation. Eventually, the archangel looked to Catherine, who kept her head bowed even as she knew he wanted her attention. When he looked back to his brother, Bal had turned his head to look away. Gabriel shifted his jaw and took a deep breath. “We should all get back to your little clubhouse,” he said, addressing the boys, “It's safe there and we need to make a plan.” Before they could agree or disagree to his orders, the archangel pointed between the pair looking shell shocked “And I definitely need to talk to you two.”

After a second, Balthazar and Catherine looked up to each other. Both desperately wanted to say something, but neither really managed to get the words out. They just stared at each other until, finally, she broke the contact first and turned away, weaving between the Winchesters to go to her car. Bal watched after her for a moment until he turned and walked around the group, but didn't follow her. He headed to the Impala instead.

Sam and Dean watched them both walk away, but Gabriel just tilted his head, annoyed. “Or maybe just one at a time,” he grumbled.

 


	20. Playing Cupid

She wasn't sure if she expected him to get in the car with her or not. The point was that when she did get in and realized he wasn't there beside her, Catherine wasn't surprised. There were... problems with them. Stupid problems that weren't even supposed to happen. What angel hurts themselves for a human that wasn't in some damn prophecy or whatever makes little mortal beings important to them? The entire last month or however long it's been was stupid, but she still missed his grumpy, cold shoulder. She figured that she needed to get used to it.

Catherine started the car to... head back with the Winchesters, she supposed. There was really no where else to go and she couldn't just abandon ship now. Suddenly, a familiar sound from the night before made her jump back in her seat, before noticing that there was a man now occupying Balthazar's spot. He smirked to her and raised an eyebrow. She grimaced and changed gears to back out.

Surprisingly enough, he stayed quiet for a while. Catherine was completely on edge, but nothing had happened before. At this point, she hardly cared. Still, the nerves were eating away at her. Call her crazy, but she wasn't a big fan of angels in her current position. Eventually, she shifted in place, staring into the brake lights of the Impala. “Is there a reason that angels still take normal transportation even if they have their wings?”

The man shrugged. “The fall didn't hurt me as bad as your friend, but it still knocked the wind out of me. I can't fly very far. Besides, we haven't had the chance to spend any quality time together yet.”

She didn't want to spend quality time with him at all. “You're Gabriel, aren't you?”

“I see my reputation precedes me,” he smiled over to her, but she didn't smile back. “Heard nothing but good things, I hope.”

“Where were you last night?”

She was on edge, and cutting to the chase like that certainly didn't raise more red flags. His smirk shifted into something more serious. “I saved Balthazar from Lucifer. I could have saved you from Michael, but I could only survive against one of them and the devil was kind of wanting to skin you two alive, with or without a grace in his hands. I made a choice and... well, we're all alive.” As expected, Catherine didn't say anything. “You're welcome, by the way.”

That got a reaction, at least. She glared over to him, but he didn't begrudge her of it. Instead, she finally spoke up. “You saved me from that ghost and told him where the Winchesters were.”

“Yup,” he nodded, already knowing where this was going.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Why what?”

Catherine glared back to him again, figuring that he was being annoying just to be annoying, but that wasn't really what was on the archangel's mind. He wanted to watch her find the words for it. Still, she spoke up again. “Why did you save me? Why didn't you just tell him where he could find the extremely photogenic brothers from Hell? Why waste your energy if you have such precious reserves of it?”

Balthazar asked him the same thing when it happened. These two were clueless. “Isn't it obvious?” He was still laying on the sarcasm by not asking the question honestly, because it was so painfully obvious that he shouldn't have to spell it out to either of them.

Catherine rolled her eyes and focused back on to the road. He waited, but she never replied. He didn't speak again either.

* * *

When they got back to the Men of Letters base, things were the same. Catherine made a bee line for the material she had been going through before they left and Balthazar wandered off on his own somewhere. Kevin was certainly curious, especially by the new face, and Castiel was no where in sight.

Sam pulled the young prophet away to fill him in while Dean stopped the archangel in the main room. “Gabriel.”

“Hmm?” He just craned his neck and looked around at all the gizmos. It was a pretty swish place, honestly. When he looked back to the hunter, though, Dean was wringing one hand and licking his lips. Nerves. As much as the angel wanted to keep up the aloof act, he relaxed a little.

“You haven't left yet, so I'm counting that as a good thing,” the hunter began and took a deep breath before finally asking the big question. “What do we do?”

A very good question. Of course, the only reason he was still around the Winchesters at all was because there wasn't much else he could do with his wings the way they were. Plus, his older brothers both desperately wanted him. Hiding would do no good with ruined wings. This was the best option and that made the problem come up and smack him in the face. No hiding now. He actually had to do something.

Gabriel glanced over to Kevin and Sam before looking back to the eldest brother. “You go talk to Cas. Tell him what's going on.” Dean nearly pouted, so the angel went back over his words. “I can still sense him, Dean-o. I'm not blind. Speaking of which, let's keep your demon friend out of the loop for right now, shall we?”

The hunter still pouted anyway. “What? That's it? Talk to Cas?”

“No, no.” Gabe shifted and looked around the room again. “Just fill him in on what happened and we'll get a game plan after that. Meet back in... say... forty minutes? We'll all be ready to rock by then, I think.”

Dean blinked at him and sighed. “You're going to go play Dr. Phil, aren't you?”

The other shrugged and began to walk off. “Only the best damn Dr. Phil you've ever seen,” he muttered.

* * *

Balthazar gripped the railing and tried stretching his back a little while taking a deep breath of fresh air. It was strange how the outside air did help now. He felt closed off enough without being trapped inside of some car or building. Just being trapped inside of his own vessel was enough. He rolled his shoulders and allowed his eyes to close and his head to bow down. Really, he shouldn't be outside trying to get used to his new lifestyle, but any guilt he felt about brushing off more responsibility didn't measure up to the rest of the stupid crap he was feeling. He only thought that being human was underrated.

Why should he feel guilty about not trying to help now, anyway? Hadn't he done more than enough? At least he was there when the cage opened, and there wasn't exactly a whole lot more he could have done to stop it. Besides, Catherine obviously did not want his aid in recovering all of this mess, so why even stay at all?

Balthazar twisted his head, telling himself that he was trying to pop his neck and not subconsciously hide from such a notion. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to help. He wanted to stay. Yet, just the thought that he actually _wanted_ such things made him angry.

A chill shook through him and he gripped the railing harder. It would have broken if he was even close to his usual self... He gripped the metal so hard that his knuckles began to turn white.

“Was it mean to you?” His head turned to find Gabriel there beside him with a shadow of a smirk on his face. It did not go past either of them that Balthazar didn't sense him at all, but the elder continued. “I can beat it up for you if you want.”

After a second's debate, Bal lightly chuckled and lessened his grip. “No, but I appreciate the sentiment,” he smiled, stretching his back again and immediately going onto another topic. “How did you get away from Lucifer?”

Gabriel pouted and shrugged one shoulder. “He wanted me more than he wanted you. I was pretty pissed off with him – still am – but I did what any sensible person would do.”

“You ran.”

“Like lightning.”

Balthazar chuckled again as his brother leaned his back against the same railing he had yet to let go of. “I know you're fast. You're the fastest angel there is. But I still find it hard to believe that you... actually got away from him.”

“Wasn't easy. I've gotten good at hiding during my little tour of Earth, though.” Gabriel leaned back and looked up at the sky. “I just had to stay low long enough for Michael to ease off.”

Whatever tiny smile Balthazar had dissolved quickly. “You knew.”

The silence wasn't pleasing. It was even less so now that he was human, but his brother finally spoke up. “I didn't know what would happen, but I knew what the chances were of everyone getting away clean... It was either Lucifer or Michael. I had to make a choice.”

She never had to be hurt. It was just the alternative that his older brother chose... as they were always doing for him. He still calmed himself, though. If Gabriel had stopped Michael, then Lucifer would have killed him. Probably all of them. He couldn't argue with that.

“I suppose you made the right one, then.” Still didn't like feeling so powerless, though, but at least he wasn't ever really alone in feeling that way. Balthazar released a breath he had been holding and tapped his thumb against the cool metal. “You rode back with her. Did she speak at all?”

“Mm. A little, yeah.” After a moment, he glanced over to his brother. “Does she always talk like she's two seconds away from slitting your throat?”

Something about that made him glad. Perhaps it was the fact she was speaking, but it was far more likely that he wasn't the only one she was talking to in such a way as of late. “Sometimes. She'll be okay, though.” Balthazar focused on his hands scraping over the rusted metal. “She's alive. She'll get over it.”

Gabriel nodded and looked back to the sky again. “Yeah. She'll be fine.” He waited as his younger brother looked over to him and away again. It didn't seem like the other was going to say anything else, so he just skipped to the next subject. “You'll be fine, too.”

“I know.” The response was automatic and not sincere in the least. Sure, he knew he'd live for the time being, but... everything was so screwed up. The world had turned to chaos again and he couldn't run away like he did before. He didn't even want to. “I think I like it out here rather than inside,” Balthazar said, speaking again while looking up to the surrounding trees. “It's bloody freezing, but at least I can breathe.”

It was Gabriel's turn to smirk again. “I think you'll figure out how warmth works eventually.”

“Eventually,” he muttered back making his brother wonder if they were talking about the same thing. When are they ever?

The archangel patted him on the back and leaned off of the railing. “Take as long as you need. I'll look after it all.”

Balthazar waited a moment before looking over and watching his brother walk away. It was comforting to know that he was looking after...  _it all_ , as he had put it, but it just brought him back to the same problem as before. He didn't want something else looking after what had happened or, rather, the person he was meant to protect. That was  _his_ job. His charge. His.

But as the door closed behind Gabriel, he looked back down to the railing again and his scratched hands.

* * *

The boys definitely didn't go without their liquor and Catherine appreciated them for it. Not that she had any real intentions of getting drunk or anything. She just needed something to loosen herself up after everything that went wrong. It was only after Cat had opened the first cold beer she found and sipped from it that she remembered she hadn't eaten in nearly two days. Probably wasn't helping her feel any better.

She wasn't hungry, though. The thought of food was not only disgusting but superfluous. She couldn't eat. Not with everything going on. Then again... She looked around the empty kitchen, resting her hand against the island. Honestly, it wasn't like she was making herself useful. The book from the day before was still sitting on the table, closed with what looked like a butter-knife marking the page she left the thing open on. Her old toast was gone.

Kevin seemed too harried to do some housecleaning. It was probably Castiel. She hefted a heavy sigh, before hearing a knock on the wall near the entrance. She turned, then grimaced at the visitor.

Gabriel just smirked back to her and walked in while Catherine took a seat. She would have ignored him if it wasn't painfully obvious that he was there to see her. His eyes didn't leave her as he took a seat opposite. That smile was getting annoying, but she refused to start a conversation again with this guy. Too tired for him right now.

He just put an elbow on the counter top and rested his chin in his hand. “You're definitely a hunter,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “They're the only ones I know that survive purely on alcohol while packing around guns and knives.”

“Serial killers probably do, too,” she responded, taking another sip of her drink. He popped an eyebrow and seemed to agree. “There a reason you're making small talk, angel man?” In all actuality, Cat knew that she should be afraid of Gabriel. Hell, she was afraid of him after the night before. Still, it didn't mean she was very willing to try being friendly with him, as smart of a move she knew that would be. Something inside of her just really didn't care anymore.

His smirk faltered. “Always trying to find the point as quick as possible, too.” Definitely a hunter. He sighed. “Don't you ever just want to, you know, try to smile and find meanings in things that make life worth living?” He waited for a response, but didn't get one. Instead, he just received a tired and annoyed stare. Hunters. Geez. “Fine.” Gabriel rested the palms of his hands on the counter surface and tried again. “Michael tortured you. It sucked, I imagine. Balthazar saved you and sacrificed a big part of himself to do so. You want to get his grace back, but there's no way you're going to be able to do that without a team behind you and this team isn't going to work if you two are having all of these drama issues.”

As expected, she didn't like the blunt approach either. Catherine shifted in her seat and glanced around. “He's-”

“Experienced,” Gabriel interrupted. “He's a soldier I fought alongside in countless battles that you couldn't even imagine and, best of all, he's smart and thinks on his feet. Human now, yeah, but that could probably be sorted through if another human thought that maybe she could crawl out of her hole of emotions and tried helping him out a little.”

Her jaw shifted, but the archangel hardly acknowledged her heated glare. “This is more than a hole of drama and emotions,” she tried speaking again, slower this time. “An angel just signed his own death wish for a human he barely knew and you want me to act like nothing's wrong with that? I can't help him until I can get his grace back.”

“Any normal human would be grateful,” he nearly growled back.

“I am.” Gabriel tilted his head as if he didn't understand and it irritated her. “I'm going to show it by saving his life. Not by putting him in more danger.”

He stayed still for a moment, until he straightened up again and leaned back. Eventually, he even scoffed and his grin returned. “Well, at least one of you isn't _completely_ ignorant.”

Catherine's eyes narrowed. He was just arguing about how she needed to fix things with Balthazar, but not she was no longer ignorant? “What's that supposed to mean?”

He could have sighed. Gabriel leaned forward, smirk gone again. “You love him.” There was a pause as he waited for some sort of outburst of a response. For a second, he thought that she might pull her gun or something. Cat's eyes widened and she straightened up in her seat – even opened her mouth to respond – but there was a pause and she closed her mouth again and looked away. He lightly smiled before continuing. “And he cares about you, which is sweet and all if that didn't include him having to get hurt over the whole thing, right?”

She glanced back up to him, but at least she wasn't trying to glare daggers into his soul this time. Instead, she actually looked serious for a change. Not that this wasn't a serious topic, because it was. Angels becoming attached to particular humans hardly worked out well and she seemed to gather that much just from logic's sake. On the other hand, things were already on course and it wasn't going to just be left behind now.

Catherine still didn't speak, so Gabriel didn't let the silence go to waste. “He needs your help. If you care about him at all, then maybe you can consider that as you try to save him.” He rose from his seat. “And while you're doing that, tell him he's got twenty minutes to stop being claustrophobic. We're gonna have one big family meeting in the library soon.” The angel began to walk away when an afterthought hit him. “Oh, and he's freezing his ass off, so teaching him a little about warm blooded mammals might help, too. Good talk.”

She watched him knock against the door frame again as he finally left. Cat just let out a breath she had been holding and looked down to her hands.

* * *

Balthazar had left his spot next to the railing to sit on the concrete. It wasn't much better, really, but at least he wasn't concerned with twisting metal in his hands anymore. His back leaned against the brick wall and he wondered if all humans were constantly as cold as he felt since becoming trapped in this body. Perhaps it was just a thing that went along with losing one's grace... Castiel didn't walk around like he was dropped off in the arctic, though. He shifted at the thought of his brother, but was relieved when he heard the door open again and knew that a distraction was forthcoming. Only the distraction didn't move or make any sounds, so he glanced over.

Catherine stood there, her arms clasped together in front of her with clothes draped over her hands. “Thank you,” she said before he could properly react to her presence. “It's what I should have said back there instead of... all that other stuff. So, I'm sorry, too.” She shuffled a foot and almost continued.

However, the other tilted his head back a little. “So, you take it back, then?” Not expecting that, she stared at him for a moment. Of course, she took it back, but- He rotated his hand around. “I mean the part about you being an insect and nothing and all that jazz.”

… From that whole deal, that was the thing he hung up on. She shifted her weight to one leg and actually found that one hard to answer. “I wouldn't say nothing... I shouldn't have screamed that you were going to die in your face or even get caught by Michael for that matter. And... I definitely shouldn't have-”

Balthazar groaned and stood up, cutting off her words. “I have lived for centuries before humanity even walked the Earth.” Closing her mouth again, Catherine looked to the ground, but he just moved closer to her. “I would do the same thing again if I had to... and you're not the only one that's sorry for what happened.”

In shock, she looked up to him again. He was a bit closer to her than she thought and it was one of the few times he truly looked serious. She wanted to respond, but found any comeback lacking and a tense silence passed between them instead.

He broke eye contact before she could manage a reply and looked down to the bundle in her arms. “Why are you carrying that around?” Really, he just wanted to find any distraction from their topic. He made it clear that he had his own mind and made his own decisions and if he wanted to sacrifice something to save a human then, dammit, he was going to. He didn't want to go further than that.

Cat glanced down again, but this time to the clothes. Right. She allowed herself a little smile. “A little birdie told me you were cold. Not that surprising in a v-neck and blazer, but it's still fifty degrees Fahrenheit out here.”

He raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly who the winged birdie was and also noting that she seemed much more stable than when they last spoke. Perhaps the archangel helped her talk about it a bit. As grateful as he should have been, that didn't sit well. Still, he brushed off the look he gave her in return by waving at his jacket. “I told you. There's nothing wrong with my clothing options... but since you went through the trouble, I suppose I could be polite and try a change for once.”

She smiled – literally smiled – to him before he began taking the old jacket off. It made him smile, too, but the thought of Gabriel still bounced around in the back of his mind. He ignored it and handed off the blazer in trade for the dark brown jacket... and frowned.

Catherine almost chuckled. “I stole it from one of them. The tall one, I think. It's temporary.” With the reassurance, he snickered, too, and put the jacket on while she continued. “We'll find something more your speed later. Warmer?”

“A little,” he answered, smiling back up to her again.

Her smile widened and she laughed before looking away. After a second's thought, she looked back to him again. “We'll get your grace back. Me and you,” she said, retracing what she had told him that morning. “It's what friends do.” She hated saying something so... corny sounding, but his smile softened and she didn't continue to think on it. For now, as much as she did like that look on him, she greatly needed a distraction from the moment before it lasted too long. “Gabriel said he wanted to meet with all of us. Said he... had some sort of plan or something.”

Balthazar barked a laugh and looked away again. Right. Gabriel. “Let's not keep him waiting, then. He's terribly impatient.”

 


	21. Secrets & Lies

Balthazar followed behind Catherine while she led the way to wherever Gabriel had told her to meet. In all honesty, the whole deal threatened to put him in a foul mood, but he refused to let it. Things were... sort of trying to look up and he needed to stop thinking such senseless thoughts.

When they both arrived in the common room, Sam was to first to notice them. The hunter looked up from a book he was reading and furrowed his brow. “Is that my jacket?”

The angel just tilted his head with an annoying smirk. “Was, maybe.”

Sam frowned, but Balthazar ignored him to glance around the room. They seemed to all be there, even Castiel, who hung to the back and stuck to Dean like glue. Bal shifted his jaw, but his attention was drawn back to the archangel who jumped on to the table.

“Hello, boys and girls!” Gabriel announced with a big grin, then waved and nodded to Catherine. “Er, girl.” She just gave him a tight smile in return.

Kevin shifted his weight and pointed to the table. “I... don't think you should stand on that.”

“I don't care. Okay!” Gabriel clapped his hands together. “I'll try to make this short and sweet. What do we know so far?”

Dean helpfully chimed in. “We're screwed.”

“Other than that. Let's try to be a little optimistic here.” The archangel looked around for another volunteer.

Sam sighed and spoke up. “Michael and Lucifer are free and they're wanting to start the Apocalypse all over again. We need to stop them. What else are you trying to fish for?”

“A way to stop them. Now,” he looked around again, eyes landing on Balthazar. “What else do we know?”

The other angel rolled his eyes. “Luci said that both armies are in tatters, so they're collecting the graces of fallen angels to be as powerful as possible to kill each other and take the planet with them.” He paused and then groaned, “Michael has mine, obviously, but we can't assume they both haven't gotten more since last night.”

Gabriel pointed at his brother with a smile. “That's right. They can both zip around as much as they want, but Michael still has his wings, so he's faster. He also has a backing. There's still angels that want the show to go on, but there aren't many that want Hell to win. It's safe to say that Lucifer's trying to catch up right now.”

“Okay,” Catherine sighed and titled her head. “How does that help?”

Sam was the first one to shrug. “We do have the King of Hell locked in our basement. He probably has a better following since Abbadon's gone. He could probably help track Lucifer. Maybe.”

“He can give us ideas, but not directions,” Gabriel agreed, but looked around them again. “They want the graces of angels and they both want to be way more powerful than the other guy. So-”

“He wanted you.” Balthazar cut in and the other angel stopped talking for him to go on. “Lucifer wanted your grace more than mine. An archangel's grace.”

Gabe smiled broadly and almost wanted to applaud them. “That's right! That's right. That's the only way they're going to get more powerful. Normal angels are just chump change for them. They want the big guys.”

“So...” Dean nearly smirked, but just tilted his head back and bit the inside of his cheek. “You... They want you.”

Sam chuckled. “I guess we have bait, then.”

“Hey, hey!” Gabriel's smile vanished into a frown. “No one's talking bait here. Seriously.”

Catherine folded her arms while the others talked over themselves for a moment. “They know you were with me and Balthazar,” she said, gaining the others' attention, “If either of them did any digging, they would know about the Winchesters and this place, too. If they don't know where you are now, they will soon.”

“But they won't come for me. Not yet,” he answered back.

She was about to ask him why he thought so, when Kevin chimed in for the first time. “Because we have you, and they know we won't let them take your grace without a fight.”

Gabriel put on his big smile again and turned back to Sam. “It looks like _someone_ here cares.”

“It was an idea,” the Winchester defended.

Catherine stared down to the table, lost in thought after Kevin's words until she spoke. “He mentioned another.” The others turned to look at here and the archangel even hummed for an elaboration. At first, she only tried to think and didn't really speak until she turned slightly to Balthazar, eyes still looking back to the table in thought. “Michael. He mentioned another. Said that he wasn't far. That they could be useful.”

Once she spoke, he immediately remembered what she was referring to and a flash of anger shot through his eyes. So, she remembered all of that. Terrific. But he ground his teeth and just looked up to Gabriel and took a deep breath. “Raphael.”

Kevin looked confused, but Dean just let out a very loud groan from hearing the name. Gabriel nodded to them. “Raphael would willingly hand over his grace to Michael in a heartbeat, but he'd hide from Lucifer. They're both going to be looking for him, so... we gotta find him first.”

“And do what?” Dean groaned again, not happy at all about Raphael walking around again. It made him remember that they were all back. Anna. Zachariah. Uriel. All of them. Not to mention that he didn't enjoy the other archangel the first few go arounds.

Gabriel's idea was simple enough, though. He shrugged, but the sigh he gave was heavy and the expression he presented was in no way a good mood. “Kill him.”

There weren't many ways to kill an archangel, but the group had been through that more than enough. A silence passed over them for a second until Sam quietly spoke up again. “How do we find him?”

“With this.” Gabriel stomped down on his platform. Inside of the table, a map of the world was lit up on a computer screen. “I know this place,” he said, looking down to the map. “The old Men of Letters. They built their fancy computers to track high energies, just like the kind we give off. All we gotta do is reverse the programming and find his happy ass.”

He hopped down from the table and Catherine rolled her shoulders. Kill an archangel. Right. Balthazar pushed his arm against hers to gain her attention. “We need to talk while they're fooling around with that thing,” he told her quietly so that only they could hear.

She glanced over to him and back to Gabriel. The eldest angel had volunteered Sam to help him with the computer hardware and no one seemed to object. Her eyes roamed over to Castiel, who seemed to have been staring at them but glanced away when he was noticed. Finally, she looked back to him and nodded. “Yes, we do. Let's go back outside.”

Catherine walked around him before he could fully believe that she actually agreed to talking... then realized she likely had something else in mind before following.

* * *

Sam showed Gabriel to the computer room that connected up the rest of the place. He did recall that, when the angels fell, Kevin said the whole place went crazy and the map lit up. If there was a way to track the angels, then that sounded great to him.

“Don't have a screwdriver with me,” he said, looking at the back panel of the computer and dug in his pocket, “but I do have a pocket knife. You sure you know what to do with this thing to make it work?”

“Nope,” Gabriel admitted, squatting down to help with the screws. “Can't hurt to try, though, right?”

After some working, the panel popped off and Sam moved it to the side. “In your case, it probably could,” he mumbled and knelt down next to the angel.

Gabriel's eyes moved over the hardware. “It's not why I asked you in here, though,” he sighed, before looking seriously over to Sam. “I think it's time we finally had a talk.”

The Winchester, confused, looked to the door before looking back to the angel. “We are talking.”

The other tilted his head and frowned disapprovingly. “Don't screw with me, kid. You're secret isn't safe with me.”

Sam's brow furrowed for a second, until light suddenly shot through his eyes. His back straightened and his jaw clenched. “Gabriel,” the other angel muttered.

The archangel shifted to face the one in Sam's body, but his looks betrayed no humor or kindness. “So, how'd you pull this one off?”

“I had to,” he immediately defended himself. “Sam was dying and I was too weak to heal him normally. Dean helped me trick him into saying yes. He's still too weak to abandon now, even with Lucifer out there.”

“How noble of you,” Gabriel answered back sarcastically.

The other shifted. “I wanted to do the right thing. It's all I ever tried to do.”

“Sam doesn't even know you're there-”

“He would reject me if he knew,” he argued back. “It would kill him.”

“It would give away your hiding place, is what it would do,” Gabriel growled. “Dean doesn't know who you are, does he?” There was a silent pause. “What name did you give him?”

“Ezekiel.” He looked away from the archangel. “I know that he died in the fall and he had a good name for himself. It was the first one I came up with.”

“How convenient,” Gabriel replied with no change in his voice.

Still, it brought the other to glare back up to him. “I did not kill him.”

The two glared at one another until a voice met them from the doorway. “Kill who?”

Gabriel looked over the angel's shoulder as the other turned to meet the voice. Dean stood there, a little confused from the sudden tense atmosphere. The archangel spoke before anyone else could. “Ezekiel.”

Dean's face, predictably, fell and grew pale. “What?”

The angel being spoken over looked to the ground and took heavy breaths, trying to not betray any emotion.

“I could sense Crowley in your crap dungeon,” Gabriel said, now glaring to Dean. “You thought I couldn't see an angel hiding out inside of a Winchester?”

The eldest brother didn't move. Just stayed silent as his shoulders fell. He was trying to get an argument together in his mind about how Ezekiel needed to stay and Sam couldn't know about him, but the conversation he had walked in on caused too many questions for him to figure out a starting point.

Gabriel looked down to the angel who glanced to him and back over to the hunter. It was clear what he had to do. “I am not Ezekiel.” Dean looked to him, still silent for the time being. “My name is Gadreel.”

“Ga-” The hunter looked between the two of them. “Why did you lie about your name?” There weren't many reasons why someone hid their identity and he was about to go into a panic over the matter.

Gabriel managed to speak up first. “Because he has a crap rep and thought you wouldn't let him help if you knew.”

Dean immediately asked the obvious question. “What kind of crap rep?”

Gadreel looked to the archangel in a silent plea, but Gabriel paid him no mind and just addressed the eldest Winchester. “It's over something that happened a long time ago, but I think he can still help.”

Shocked, the angel didn't say anything. Dean, however, looked between them again. He was entrusting his brother's life to an angel that lied to him on a first name basis. He wished he could feel better about it with Gabriel's seal of approval, but he didn't trust his feathery ass either. There were too damn many angels here... The only one he did trust was-

“Let's keep this between ourselves,” Gabriel said, already knowing what Dean was thinking. “Just for now... I'll watch him.”

Gadreel frowned, noting that the archangel was finally looking at him again. Again, no humor or anything casual about his glare. This was a command coming from something more superior than himself. He didn't know if he had just been given a chance or put on death row.

Silence fell over them and the archangel waited for his threat to sink in before speaking again. “You can go.”

Gadreel's jaw twitched and he took a deep breath before allowing Sam to take over once again. His frown was immediately back on his face. “What secret?”

“Please,” Gabriel scoffed, going back to the computer. “Doesn't everyone got one. I'm just trying to bond here. Geez.”

Raising an eyebrow, Sam began to rise, but stopped short when he noticed his brother standing in the doorway. Rather, it was the look on his brother's face that made him pause. “Dean?”

The eldest brother took in a deep breath and caught the angel's eyes before trying to compose himself. “Just wondered if you two needed some help, that's all.”

* * *

The sun was finally starting to set on the already long day. Catherine knew she was hungry and tired but didn't feel either anymore. She also knew Balthazar was probably the same, but she wasn't sure that he even knew what things like that felt like. It didn't matter, though. They were both thankfully distracted with the simple task at hand.

“You need to be a little tense for the recoil,” she chided, “Straighten your arms out a little.”

He grumbled, but did as told anyway. That fine line between being too relaxed and too tense seemed a bit hard for him to find. One of those things about humanity, he supposed. Balthazar held her gun with both hands, aiming down the sights to the small target she pointed out for him.

She looked over his posture and grip. “How old are you again? I'm surprised you've never shot one of these.”

“Never needed to,” he grumbled again, but opted to continue on with their lesson rather than make small talk. “Is this position good for you, dear?”

Catherine hummed, giving him another sarcastic smile, before moving closer and looking over his arm with him and down the sights of the gun. He could feel the closeness of her body to his and her light breath grazing across his neck. It was the first time someone had gotten a little too close for him, but at the same time he didn't care for her to move away either. Definitely a strange sensation. Humans were weird.

However, she didn't seem to notice that he was distracted at all and just gave a little nod against his shoulder. “All right. Squeeze the trigger when you're ready.”

Balthazar blinked and realized what was happening again. Right. Gun shooting or something of that extent. He readjusted himself and tried to push away the thoughts that had just decided to invade his mind. Just like she had told him, he released a breath and pulled the trigger. The recoil did shock him a bit, but he still hit the target in the center.

Catherine was pleasantly surprised and smiled while he lowered the gun. “You're  _sure_ you've never shot a handgun before?”

“I said I was new, not bad,” he defended himself, looking down to the gun and turning the safety on like she had lectured a moment ago. “Still held worse.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, stepping away from him to look closer at the shot target, “but you're more vulnerable now.”

“Swords still hurt,” he sighed, handing over the gun. She was a little surprised he didn't want to continue for the time being, but didn't say anything of it and took the gun back. “Speaking of,” he continued, “You don't know hand to hand, do you?”

Cat holstered the gun with a raised eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“You're always throwing the bloody things like Mardi Gras beads set to detonate.” She gave him a look, so he shrugged. “You do it beautifully, but still.”

At least it got a smile out of her and she nodded in submission. “I don't know hand to hand when it comes to sword fighting, so I keep my distance.”

“Good tactic,” he said, looking to the ground and picking up a stick. “You may not have a choice one day, though.”

The stick thing was new, but she played along and picked one up for herself. “I didn't know angels were vulnerable to flimsy pieces of wood.”

“It's just stance,” he grumbled, but with a smile. “It's all in the foot work. And wrist... You'll see.”

Being taught sword fighting from Balthazar wasn't something she expected and – even though they were playing with sticks – she didn't expect him to be too gentle of a teacher. Not that she minded, so long as she learned something. Still, before they began, she lowered her mock sword and looked to him seriously again. “Was this what you wanted to talk with me about?”

“No,” he answered honestly and raised his stick in the comfortable stance he was used to, “But I prefer this.”

 


	22. Adjustments

Sleep was abysmal. A person goes into a coma-like state for hours while their mind hallucinates false images. It wasn't creepy until he first realized he was tired and Catherine told him to go to bed. Balthazar remembered arguing against the idea and that was it. The next morning he woke up cold and, apparently, hungry.

Both side effects seemed to be a constant for him. Eating was now different, but far more enjoyable, while drinking alcohol was different altogether. Warming up, on the other hand, was just irritating. It took about three layers of clothes before he could deem the temperature livable. Someone – Gabriel probably – told him he would get used to it in time. He somehow doubted it.

It took a few days, but Gabriel managed to breathe life into that ancient machine by some strange miracle. Quickly enough, he had found a few readings that could belong to a weakened archangel. Unfortunately, Lucifer and Michael moved too quickly for the computer to pinpoint their location, so the only one they really could find was Raphael... hopefully.

They were to be split into two teams. Dean, Sam, and Castiel were to go east while Catherine and Balthazar went west. Gabriel chose to remain behind with Kevin, much to the boy's annoyance. Though, Cas finally getting out and going in the field was a turn of events, but one the angel seemed firm on.

Balthazar shook his head, trying to push away thoughts of his brother again. It was harder to push any thoughts away now, though. A quirk he noticed when he found Catherine just coming from a shower. It didn't help that she was so happy about the whole thing, considering it was, as she had put it, her first decent shower since an angel nearly landed on her car. It was just the wet hair and that happy smile and the small signs of steam leaving her skin-

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. Back to square one, it seemed. After shaking his head again and taking a deep breath, he looked back down to what was given to him. Dean and Catherine had provided him with clothes while he was stuck talking to Gabriel one day. It wasn't much, but he was reassured that it was all he would need with the lives they were to lead. It didn't matter. So long as it was warm, he was grateful.

Still, he picked out what he deemed decent attire and trusted the humans' words when they gave advice on which materials were warmer and which ones weren't. He was not interested in those that weren't.

He was mostly dressed for their great adventure they were embarking on in the afternoon. Boots, jeans, a white version of one of those long sleeve undershirts he loved so much lately, another gray shirt over that, and he was currently scrutinizing the black leather jacket in his hands. He was just grateful to be alone while going over his clothes so thoroughly. The Holy Fashion Diva comment would come back full force. Still, he had enough sense to know that it was difficult to get blood stains out of leather. He was just wondering if he really cared or not, all things considered

A distraction came in the form of something right outside of his door. It had been left slightly ajar, so it was easy to tell that someone had meant to stop, but apparently thought better of it and continued on. He knew who it was. He knew that pathetic shuffle anywhere.

Balthazar sighed and tilted back his head to look at the ceiling. This had been getting irritating, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself. Catherine hadn't made any mention on Castiel since their first night at the Men of Letters, which made him wonder if she believed the issue had been decided or was just allowing him to make up his own mind. Really, her input wouldn't matter to him on the subject, aside from the fact that she'd probably feel unsafe if Castiel actually became more talkative around them. Not that she knew much about him aside from the whole murder thing.

After chewing on his lip for a moment, he threw the jacket back down on the bed and quickly left the room to catch up. He still had to go down the hall and turn a corner before getting sight of his scruffy, hunched brother. “Cas.”

Once again, Castiel stopped his walk from hearing that same voice, but didn't immediately turn. He hesitated even longer than before, hunching his shoulders and shuffling his feet, until finally angling himself to shyly face Balthazar again. He didn't really look as bad off as he did that first night, but still quite hollow. Perhaps it wasn't the loss of his grace, but more of the current events doing that to him.

Balthazar ignored it. Instead, he licked his lips and stood up a little straighter in preparation to speak, but realized slightly too late that he wasn't really sure what to say. He was the one that had been killed, after all. What was there left to say? Was he supposed to forgive his brother for that? He wasn't sure he could.

Before he could get any words out, though, Castiel seemed to have swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke up first. “Hello, Balthazar.” Then, he started chewing on the inside of his cheek, as if he were mulling over what he was supposed to say next.

The other nodded awkwardly in return, shifting in place again and playing with the sleeves of his shirt. Maybe he just needed to say anything at this point. “We should... probably talk.” He only received a worried stare in return, so he added, “About before...”

Castiel glanced to the ground. “I don't really... know what to say about before...”

Another silence passed as the two shifted in place, shuffling in their foreign skins from the awkward air. Well, Balthazar reasoned, if Castiel had nothing to say on the subject, then perhaps there was nothing to say about it. He looked away, too, regretting doing this already, before turning to go back to the room.

But before he could stop himself, Cas took a step forward as his brother turned away. “Balthazar! I-” The blonde had stopped to look back at him and his throat constricted, going instantly dry. He had to look away again and chew on his lip a bit, before mustering up the words. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly. No response came, so he looked up to find Balthazar staring back at him. He tried to swallow and speak again, a little louder, but unintentionally adding a crack to his voice. “I'm sorry.”

It occurred to Balthazar that he didn't expect this. He actually didn't expect an apology for what had happened back then. Because of that, he had no idea what to say or how to even react. This humanity that had been shoved down his throat was threatening to drown him in the emotions he already couldn't control well. There were so many things he wanted to do, but he didn't know which ones were the right actions or what was best for him.

In his hesitation, Castiel spoke up again. “I never... wanted to- I mean... I was lost back then. I didn't know what was the right thing anymore and, knowing of the power I could have had, I just didn't-” He stopped, forcibly closing his mouth before completely going on a rant. After a second of taking a few deep breaths, he tried again. “You were trying to protect me,” he said, looking up to his brother, “Trying to protect them... You are my brother and you were trying to help me. You stuck by my side when no else would. You believed in me... I'm sorry.”

Balthazar just stood there, processing what was told to him. Yes, he knew that Castiel had lost his senses at the time and that the angel was far too desperate for the power being offered to him. He just-... Why didn't he expect an apology? Maybe because he tried to not think about this turn of events.

He blinked back to his brother and shook his head. “It was the past,” he tried to say, “I'm back now.” Really, he just wanted it over and done with. Something that really was in the past and didn't impact the present at all, but that wasn't really a possibility now, despite how much he wanted that outcome.

Castiel's brow furrowed, making his brother chew on his lip again. “I... wasn't expecting... forgiveness,” Cas replied honestly. He definitely didn't expect it like that and, somewhere inside, he knew that his brother didn't really mean it. Perhaps it wasn't really forgiveness, but more of a truce? He couldn't tell. He didn't think it right to ask either.

Balthazar looked down and nodded. He stood there for another moment before finally walking away, going back quickly the way he came. Cas watched him leave with a heavy heart, but when he heard the door close, he let out a breath he had been holding far too long. It was... a strange step, but it was a very good one... Hopefully. Maybe. He didn't really know what to do about it.

After another moment, he turned and continued on his search.

* * *

It took a few more minutes – which he was happy about since it granted him extra time to think about the tense conversation he just left behind – but Castiel finally found who he was looking for.

Catherine was sitting in the kitchen again, but guns were spread out in front of her in a very ordered fashion instead of a mess of books. She had gone back to the car and taken out most of the artillery in her possession. She just wanted to make sure everything was clean and in good condition before leaving... sort of. Honestly, it gave her something to do. Menial tasks that didn't really need to be handled at that moment, but it didn't hurt anything either. Sitting around and waiting was just going to drive her crazy, anyway.

Castiel cleared his throat by the entrance way to gain her attention, which worked remarkably well. Catherine stopped in the middle of putting a handgun back together and looked up at him. Really, he was the last person she expected to approach her, but she also didn't like the fact that they seemed to be alone here. At least she wasn't unarmed.

But Cas stayed by the open doorway for a moment longer, before shifting his weight from side to side. “May I come in?”

She blinked at him then glanced around the room. “It's... your kitchen,” she told him with a little nod.

For some reason, that got a tiny smile out of him and he looked awkwardly to the floor. “Actually, it's not,” he gently laughed before looking back up to her, the smile going away, “but I sense that I... make you uncomfortable. I thought I should ask first.”

Well, she couldn't really say that she wasn't appreciative of that, but Catherine was still uneasy about him. Even so, she just nodded again and looked back to the gun in her hands, assembling the weapon again as he walked in.

Only, after a couple of seconds of silence, she stopped messing with the gun again and looked up. Castiel was standing across the table from her, watching her hands work, but looked to her as she back. He nodded. “Hello.”

She waited for him to continue, but nothing happened so she just nodded back. “Hi.” He nodded again, his lips pulled tight into something close to a smile, and just continued watching her. She blinked again. “Can I... help you?”

“Actually,” Cas told her, slightly leaning into the table, “I think _I_ can help _you_.” With what he presumed to be bombshell thrown, he leaned back to stand up straight.

Unfortunately, Catherine just stared back at him, turning her head to look at him from the side. She couldn't figure out if she was creeped out or embarrassed, but Cas noticed this and frowned. “Sorry,” he muttered, looking down to the table, “Dean told me that if I showed confidence then this would be easier. He said to go by his example.”

“Is he usually creepy like that?” Catherine asked before thinking.

He just shrugged and ran a finger across the table's surface. “Sometimes.”

Right. She blinked back at him again, before readjusting herself in her seat. “You can just... act normal. It's okay.”

He looked up quickly, something like hope in his eyes. “Is it?”

It took her a moment to realize why he reacted that way and it just made her shift again. Finally, she put the gun down and looked up to him seriously. “What did you want?”

His eyes widened like he just remembered what he was there for in the first place. “Ah. I-” One hand went to the opening of his jacket, but he looked down then looked back up to her. Deciding on something, he walked around the table to get closer. Catherine shifted again, but he didn't really seem to notice.

Once he was on her side, he reached into his jacket and slowly pulled out an angel blade. Glancing up to her revealed that she had leaned back a bit and was scrutinizing his movements. The reaction didn't make him feel well, but he just swallowed the emotions and twirled the blade in his hand so that the hilt was facing her. “I want you to have it.” His lips twitched, so he tried again. “I want... you and Balthazar to have it.”

Catherine glanced up to him, more than a little confused and not moving to accept the gift. “We already have angel swords,” she told him, thinking that he was the one that was lost, but he only nodded in return.

“Yes,” he answered, “but those won't kill Raphael.” Her brow furrowed and he continued. “Only archangel blades can kill an archangel. When I killed Raphael, I took his sword. Somehow, it hasn't been lost. Thanks to Dean and Sam, I'm sure.” He was thinking back to when the Leviathans took over his body and killed him, but Catherine had only looked closer to the blade.

“How can you tell the difference?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Angels can. I can't now, but I made sure it was separate from the others. I would have marked it better if I was aware of these events, though.” She looked to him again, a bit skeptical, but Cas just held the blade closer to her. “Please. If the two of you find Raphael, you'll need it... Please.”

With a frown, Catherine looked back down to the sword and reached out to take it from him slowly. He didn't make any quick movements and neither did she. Castiel just released the blade and took a step back away from her.

Once he had moved back, she looked down to the sword in curiosity, but the frown remained. “What about you?” she asked once looking away from it.

“I think Gabriel is willing to lend his to us,” he answered with a little nod, the tight smile back on his face. After a beat of silence, he continued. “I just... wanted to give that to you and Balthazar. I feel like I should give more, but I don't... have anything else to give.”

She caught the hint. Unfortunately, years of paranoia as a hunter still wasn't sitting well with this guy, but something about him and the act seemed genuine. “You know,” she told him, “you could have given this to Balthazar.” He immediately gave her a wide eyed look, but she shrugged and tilted her head. “Why didn't you?”

He blinked at her and stared before looking down to the floor. “He wouldn't have accepted it.”

Catherine wasn't sure if he was right or if that was an excuse he was going with to avoid his brother. Honestly, there was a good chance that it was both.

Castiel looked back up to her and nodded another time. “I should finish packing or... something,” he announced awkwardly and began to walk back around the table.

He was almost out the door by the time she spoke up again. “Thank you,” she told him hurriedly before he left, but the words caused him to stop suddenly. She thought he was going to glance back to her, but he only nodded and quickly left.

Her brow furrowed in worry and she looked back down to the angel blade in her hands.

* * *

Balthazar finished packing his belongings, which just consisted of what had been given to him in the last few days aside from his vessel's original clothes. Not that he didn't like the suit jacket – really, it fitted him – but things seemed to change quite a bit now. Never mind the fact that it wasn't even close to warm enough for him anymore. Humans were so weird...

He walked into the Winchester's garage with his bag, striding over to Catherine's Challenger and stuffing it in the back seat. His brow furrowed when he noticed her things were already there, minus her. His question was answered by another voice in the room with him, though. “Nice jacket.”

He smirked before even turning. “Ah. Thanks, lo-” His voice was cut off as she walked to him, eyes landing on the bag on her shoulder overflowing with rifles. “I think you have enough firearms, sweet heart.”

“These _are_ mine,” she chuckled, moving around him and the car to open the trunk. “I was cleaning them. Trust me, we got enough.” He just huffed while she began putting them all away, but stopped on the last shotgun and grew a little hesitant. Finally, she poked her head around the side of the car to find him leaning against the passenger door, off in lala land somewhere. Might as well just jump in. “So I... talked to Cas.”

This seemed to register very slowly with him, but Balthazar eventually looked over to her in confusion. “What?”

She bobbed her head a little and closed the trunk. “He's a weird one.”

Still confused, he tried being more specific. “Why did you- Should I be concerned?”

“He came to me,” she said in an attempt to make him less concerned, but the comment only managed to succeed the opposite. Catherine walked back around the car to him and looked around for others before pulling Castiel's gift from her jacket. “He gave me this.”

Balthazar leaned back like the thing would snap at him. “An angel blade?” he asked, sounding more than a little suspicious and not minding one bit if she noticed.

She didn't mind. In fact, she just shrugged. “Said it was Raphael's,” she told him, which was the cause of her concern. “You think he's telling the truth?”

Balthazar raised his eyebrows and shook his head, not really knowing for sure. The fact that Castiel was alive meant that he won the confrontation and there was definitely going to be some form of confrontation back then. But Raphael was supposed to be back now and that was years ago. There was really no telling one way or the other. “If he were lying, it would be to have us killed,” he finally resolved, “and that's a very round about way of doing such a simple task.”

“Simple. Really?” She shot him a sarcastic look that he just shrugged to in response, but their conversation ended when the rest of the group entered the garage.

Sam and Dean moved to the Impala with their bags, Castiel right on their heels, while Gabriel grimaced and pointed to the sword in Catherine's hands. “Ugh. Put that away before you hurt me,” he said, pointing over to her.

Her sarcastic look moved to him while she stuffed the sword back in her jacket. “The temptation's always there, that's for sure.” From his reaction, though, it sounded like Castiel had told the truth. She shared a look with Balthazar before glancing into the back seat to make sure everything was there and moving around to the driver's side of the car.

Dean threw his things into the floorboard of the Impala, then glanced over to the other group. “You two got everything?”

Balthazar smirked and answered before Catherine could. “We're just splendid, thank you.”

“We'll be fine, Dean,” she answered politely for them. He seemed more appreciative of her answer.

Kevin looked between them all and heaved a heavy sigh. “I'll be stuck on phone duty if any of you run into trouble.”

“Me, too,” Gabriel said with a big smile, wrapping his arm over Kevin's shoulders quickly enough to shock the kid. “We'll be like pals. It'll be fun.”

Sam opened the car door to his seat, but just scoffed before getting in. “Yeah, well, don't pal it up too much. You still have the King of Hell in your basement and there's people looking for you.”

“We'll be fine, mother,” the archangel groaned, waving off the warnings. “Just worry about yourselves. Don't talk to strangers. Be back by ten. Don't forget the milk-”

Balthazar hurriedly opened his door. “Let's just go, please,” he pleaded, getting in and leaving Catherine to smirk at them.

She just waved to the others there. “Be careful,” she told them, watching Dean nod and Castiel give a shy smile before she got in the car, too. “Ready?” she asked her partner, receiving a grunt in return. Good enough.

The Challenger pulled out of its spot and drove up the slope first, followed quickly by the Impala as Dean waved back to the ones they were leaving behind.

Kevin and Gabriel just watched them drive away until they couldn't hear the car engines anymore. With a sigh, the boy looked over to the angel hanging off of him, only to realize Gabriel was staring at him. “Got any board games?” the other asked, causing the scribe some concern.

“... No,” he answered back, peeling away the archangel's arm on his shoulder and walking away.

“Why not?” Gabriel asked after him, but the door was already closing. Great.

 


	23. The Golden Apple

Catherine and Balthazar arrived in the first area Gabriel wanted them to check out. The place was apparently having some weird signs of activity, but it could be up in the air if it was Raphael or an angel at all. The fact that there was a small town there gave a more likely chance that something could be going on, but the place wasn't really deserted either.

At first, they were wary of being spotted, but no one really seemed to care all that much. Balthazar raised the idea that they both try to relax because hiding wasn't going to work anyway, so Catherine opted to leave the car so that they could easily walk around town to meet a few people and gain a little information.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going as swimmingly as she thought. Balthazar walked down the sidewalk like he owned the place. Her, on the other hand, walked beside him and scrutinized everyone that passed by them. Something was here, that much was for certain. It just didn't seem like their mark... She couldn't tell. Things were just not lining up right so far.

Bal just glanced to her a little worriedly. She was obviously on edge and a bit suspicious. The hard looks she gave some people caused them to get a wide berth where they walked, so they were definitely gaining attention. He gave it another moment, a few more scared glances, until he finally couldn't stand it. “What are you doing?”

“I don't know,” she admitted, watching two teenagers who had just passed them by. “It's weird. I don't know what it is, but something's weird.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It's you.”

Cat shook her head, as if she sort of wished she believed him. “Gabriel said there's something here that's strong enough to be an archangel. Why isn't everything going nuts? It's almost like-”

“As if he's never been wrong before,” Balthazar nearly snapped in response. To be honest, he was getting real tired of hearing about Gabriel all the time from her. Sure, he's been more than a huge help to them all, but that didn't make him the second Christ or something. “It is possible that he really is _wrong_ , you know. There may be nothing here and we're just wasting our bloody time.”

She thought about that; the possibility of Gabriel and that machine thing to be so wrong that there was nothing there. If the signal had moved, someone would have called and told them... After a quick debate, she shook her head, still watching the town goers. “I don't believe that.”

“Of course, you don't,” he grumbled to himself with a roll of his eyes. Bal really wanted to dig into his side of the argument, but the only reason he wasn't was because he didn't have much of one. It was just irritating him to high hell and he couldn't really pin point the exact cause, other than his brother being as annoying as usual.

It was then that Catherine finally noticed he was in one of those moods again. Thankfully, this wasn't of the quiet, brooding sort. He seemed genuinely peeved about something this time. Maybe she was being a little weird...

The thought was cut off when a young kid ran between them, laughing with tufts of candy in his hands. They had stopped and turned to watch him when a dark haired woman ran between them, too, nearly knocking all of them over in her rush. She turned suddenly, chuckling and placing a hand on each of their arms. “Sorry. Sorry,” she apologized before running after the boy. “Charles, where are you going?”

Catherine watched the woman catch the laughing child and coddle him, still narrowing her eyes at the pair. “I don't know,” she said again, then continued on her walk. “Something's weird.”

Balthazar watched her and looked back to the happy woman and child. “...Yeah,” he sighed, rolling his eyes again and following her.

* * *

The two of them had circled back to the park after about forty minutes of walking down streets and speaking to some local shop owners. Things seemed so normal here, as if nothing was happening and Gabriel really was wrong.

Catherine was sitting at a picnic table, watching the people go about their lives on such a nice day. Kids were playing on swing sets, couples walked hand in hand on the sidewalk, a few people jogged pass her, and she watched every single one of them closely. Something just wasn't right here. It was too normal. Too nice. Too happy.

“Are you still glaring at those poor people?” She sighed and turned in her seat to glare a little at Balthazar, too. His expression was somewhere between confusion and worry, but he set down the two take out plates of food in his hands to distract from it. “You're beginning to creep me out,” he admitted.

“It's not right, though,” she said, glancing over to the kids playing. “Look at them? Look at how happy they are? Isn't that weird?”

Cat looked at him as if he were supposed to suddenly see the light, but he just stared back at her for a moment. “... You're depressing today,” he finally told her and sat down in the seat across from her. It was better to just eat than try to reason with her about this, so he grabbed his plate and tried to ignore her.

Catherine bit her tongue and looked around again before turning to face him. He had already opened his late lunch and was about to eat when she decided to interrupt. “Well, what do you see?” she asked him seriously. He looked at her over his food, hoping that maybe she'll just stop but no. “Go ahead. Look around. What do you see?”

His shoulder fell about an inch, but Balthazar glanced around. She patiently waited for a response, but he just shrugged. “... People?” After a moment of waiting, Cat motioned for him to continue, which only brought an annoyed groan out of him. “I don't even begin to know what you want me to say, dear.”

She just sighed and rubbed her forehead, motioning again for him to go back to what he was doing earlier, which he did without much prompting. Still, Cat looked over to a happy older couple walking by, hand in hand. “If there really is nothing here, then why did something show up on that machine at all?” she asked more to herself than her companion. “It could be busted, but what if it's not? What if all this Pleasantville crap is just a cover?”

The fact that she seemed genuinely worried and stressed about it didn't go pass him. Really, the way she had been acting since their encounter with his two eldest brothers hadn't gone by him, either. She was driven now – perhaps even borderline obsessed with this whole mess – and he couldn't help but feel bad about it. His grace was her goal, after all.

Bal chewed his food and glanced around at the people again. It really did seem perfectly normal, but she was right that it made for a good cover. Would angels still recognize him after the loss of his grace? Would they care at all if they did recognize him? He twirled his plastic fork in his hand and pointed to her plate. “Eat. We're not leaving until we check things out closer anyway,” he reasoned, “but glaring at everyone we talk to won't gather us much in the way of answers either.”

He was right. Of course, he was right. She was overreacting to this whole ordeal, but she couldn't help it. The threat of another archangel was not something she liked to be pinned under, never mind the fact that _they_ were looking for _him_. It was stupid, actually, and she didn't have a problem admitting to herself that she was scared after what happened with Michael.

She sighed and looked back over to Balthazar before glancing down to her own plate. Might as well enjoy the calm while it lasted, she reasoned, and pulled her plate closer. “Thanks for the food.”

“Don't thank me,” he said between bites, “It was your money.”

* * *

It hadn't been twenty minutes and she was already doing a bit better with the staring. Balthazar could even claim to be proud of the fact, but he was mostly just relieved people weren't looking at them funny anymore. In fact, things were much more relaxed now and he could focus more on trying to find an oddity hidden somewhere around the small town. Only problem was that he couldn't really find anything out of place, which was a little worrying on its own. No wonder she had been going crazy.

“Maybe we should check the police station,” he suggested, walking beside her again as they made their way along the sidewalk, going back to the car. “Surely, this entire place isn't crime free. Even something that happened around the same time as the fall could be helpful.”

“Good idea,” she admitted after thinking on the idea, “but we can't just walk in and ask what's up. We should do a little research first. Surely the press isn't all flowers and rainbows, too.”

“We need to do more research in general,” he sighed in response. “I had assumed angels would be all over us, but they may not even realize who we are if they're here.”

Cat smirked, pulling the keys out of her pocket. “Gives us the advantage, at least,” she said, finally coming up to the car. Before he had to move to the passenger side, though, Balthazar quickly leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her lips, which she returned just before he moved away to go around.

Her keys now hovered over the locked car door and she stared at them for what seemed like a full minute. After slowly looking up, she realized Balthazar had stopped in front of the car and was turning back around to face her just as slowly. Cat stared back at him for a second, before glancing to her keys, the car, and then up the sidewalk to check if anyone else had seen that.

His mouth was hanging open as he pointed between her, the Challenger, and himself a few times, trying to find some sort of words. “Did... you just-”

“No,” she answered quickly, glancing back to him.

It took another minute as he replayed the scenario in his mind again. “... Yes, you did,” he decided, “You kissed me.”

She made a little choked sound in the back of her throat, before gaining some semblance of a human being again, and pointed her keys between the two of them. “If I remember right, you just kissed _me_.”

“I did not,” he argued back, as if the very thought was insane.

“Yes, you did,” she argued, too, “You're taller than me. You leaned down and kissed me.”

“I'm not _that_ much taller,” Bal grumbled, moving back over to her with the intent to prove his point of only being a couple of inches over her. “Admit it! You kissed me.”

“I didn't! It was you. You leaned down-”

“You leaned _up_!”

“No, I didn't!”

“Well, if it wasn't me, then who else was it?”

“Not me!”

“Aww.” A voice distracted them and they turned to find yet another couple, arm in arm. The young woman had her hand over her mouth, looking between the arguing parties. “You two are too cute to fight like that.”

The other patted her on the arm. “Come on, sweetheart,” her escort chided, leading her along by her arm. “They'll sort themselves out.” The two turned away and continued walking down the sidewalk without so much as a glance back.

Balthazar stared at them and wasn't able to make a comment until they were well out of ear shot. “... What?”

Catherine watched them, too, until something finally occurred to her. She raised her hands and looked up and down the sidewalks again, glancing between all of the people. It was just turning into evening and a lot of adults had come out to enjoy the night to come, but they were in pairs more often than not. “Oh my God,” she muttered, glancing across the street, as well, and down the road.

Bal looked back to her again, more than confused now, when she finally turned to face him again with a little smile. Her arms spread out and Catherine announced, “We've been cursed!”

He stared back at her like she had grown a second head, which is around the time she realized that being cursed wasn't a good thing, despite the fact that it meant she had been right the whole time. He finally blinked and broke the confused staring with a tilt of his head. “Do you need to sit down?”

Her arms fell. “No. Look. Look at them.” She turned back to the people again. “They're all happy and together and creepy. That's what's wrong. I was right. There is something wrong here. I was right!”

Once he looked around like she had said and put the two together, he had to admit that she was on to something. It just... didn't really add up. “They've been cursed with... sex?” He almost said love but scratched that. Then he almost said happiness and scratched that, too. What would that imply for them? He deemed sex the safer topic.

Fortunately, she didn't hear him or notice the fumble as she started patting herself down and looking to the strangers passing by. “If it's a curse, then they had to place something on us,” she reasoned with herself, “It's not in the car, we haven't even touched it. Everyone's infected, so it has to be something easily widespread.”

He was already getting tired of the day. Balthazar gave a long sigh and shrugged. “Maybe it's in the water.”

“Maybe it's-” She stopped moving altogether and slowly glanced up to him. “Where did you get our food?”

Oh no. No no no. This was not going to end up being his fault. “It wasn't the food.”

She blinked at him and turned. “It was this way,” she muttered to herself, leaving him and the car behind.

He had to stride to catch up. “It wasn't the food!”

She ignored him and continued on around two blocks until she found what must have been the restaurant he had gotten their food from. It was a nice little place, complete with an outdoor eating area, which made her wonder how much their lunch actually cost. The thought vanished when she glanced to the sign. “Seriously?” She looked at him incredulously.

“I'm bloody telling you, it wasn't-” He stopped defending himself when she pointed to the name of the restaurant. He glanced over to find that it was aptly called _The Golden Apple_. Bal blinked and looked back to her. “I don't- What?”

“ _The Iliad_ ,” she tried to explain. “Helen and Paris? Troy?” After shaking his head, she decided to just come out with it. “Aphrodite, the Goddess of Sex and Love, made Helen fall in love with Paris over a golden apple. It ended up destroying a whole civilization, remember? I mean, seriously.”

After a moment, he seemed to remember. “Oh, I've met her!” he said with a little grimace. “Woman's a little crazy if you ask me... Though,” he titled his head a smirked a little, “she is remarkably flexible for being so-”

Bal glanced back to Catherine, who was glaring back to him. His mouth closed and, after a brief pause, he turned around. “I'm going back to the car.”

“Wait,” she ran after him, “wait, wait!”

* * *

They both flashed fake health inspector badges to the attending waitress by the door. Her mouth pulled into a little 'O' as she looked between them. “Have we gotten complaints?”

“No, ma'am,” Catherine said with a little smile, stuffing the badge back into her jacket. “Nothing substantial, anyway. We just want to speak to the owner and do the usual check.”

The waitress smiled back with relief for a moment, but frowned again. “Oh, our manager is out tonight. Family problems. But you can speak to my supervisor, if you'd like? Our manager should be in tomorrow morning.”

Cat glanced over to Balthazar, wondering if it was wise to allow their supposed enemy any sort of head start on them. He looked back to her and then smiled over to the waitress. “That's fine, too. We'd just like to see the kitchen, please.”

The smile that was given back to him – likely from the surprise of his accent – did not go over Catherine, and she frowned to the woman before being waved over in the direction of her supervisor.

The supervisor in question, a nice young man who showed them to the kitchen, was a bit better to her liking. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Balthazar, as he noticed the handsome man spoke more to his partner than to him. She seemed generally oblivious but smiled more, and it annoyed him to no end.

They were shown around the kitchen, but it was obvious when they first entered that they wouldn't be able to get a thorough look around. The cooks were hustling from the evening rush and it was impossible to look at ingredients this way. The only thing that did stand out was that things didn't seem to be outright terrible. Just like everything else in that town, it looked perfectly normal.

“Are you guys always this busy?” Catherine asked the supervisor and Bal looked to her with a frown, assuming she was actually trying to make small talk with the guy.

He smiled back to her and the angel wanted to break his nose. “Not always,” he answered, “Dinner and lunch is always busy, but we're generally slow for breakfast.”

The morning again, she noted. It seemed fine, but there could also be a pattern to it. Unfortunately, they needed time to figure out what exactly they were dealing with and, if it was Aphrodite, how to properly stop her. She smiled back to him again and they continued on their way. They would have to come back in the morning. There was no choice in the matter. Only, they didn't have to let these people know that.

After a few more minutes on their quick tour, the young man stopped and asked if they had any questions. Balthazar was quick to answer before Cat could get her hands on that one. “No, thank you,” he said with a very fake smile, which he turned to his companion. “We should probably go, dear.” He often called her by pet names, so it wasn't hard to notice that she didn't even realize the action, but he didn't care if she did. He just wanted the smug little supervisor to.

She was confused by his sudden urge to leave, though, but didn't say anything. The other man didn't make any remarks on Bal's comment and just nodded. “Well, come back whenever you like. All we have here is good food and a nice atmosphere.”

Balthazar nearly laughed, but his smile grew wider. “Oh, I bet. Shall we?” Before she knew it, he was already leaving and she was forced to follow after him.

The waitress at the front waved as they passed by. “Come back again,” she happily told them both.

He almost tripped over himself as he stopped, suddenly getting a bright idea. Balthazar smiled back and blew a kiss over to her. “We will, love.”

The girl giggled and Catherine walked around him with her brow furrowed. “Love? Really?” she whispered to him, “Was the kiss thing even necessary?”

He shrugged, frowning back to her. “What's gotten into you?”

“What's gotten into _you_?” she asked opening the door for the both of them.

The waitress, with a worried frown, watched the pair argue as they left.

 


	24. Tension

Catherine took her jacket off and Balthazar pretended not to notice. This whole situation was beginning to get very irritating, but at least she seemed just as frustrated about it as he was. They argued all the way back to the motel room, then quickly fell into a companionable silence as they tried to figure out what was going on. They couldn't talk to or take a closer look of anyone from the offending restaurant until the next day. Not to mention this seemed to have nothing to do with Raphael and their current problem of archangels.

He stood next to the small table, placing down one book and picking up yet another, thumbing through it. “If we weren't cursed,” he grumbled, “we could just keep going.”

“We can't just leave things the way they are here,” Catherine commented from one of the beds, rubbing her temple while looking at the computer screen. She had realized that this could probably not be Aphrodite. It could be Eris or some other Pagan God or something else entirely and it was causing too many conflicts on how to handle this situation.

“Raphael is more important,” he argued firmly, glancing back to her.

Her lips pulled into a thin line, but she knew he was right. The archangels were far important than this nonsense. Cat nodded, rising from her spot and bringing one of her books back to the pile they had on the table.

Balthazar looked back to the book in his own hands. “We could still leave, anyway,” he argued before thinking on it. “It'll probably fade away or we can ignore it or something.”

“A curse is a curse,” she sighed, leaning against the table and looking at the contents. “It'll just get worse until we become part of the Stepford community, too.” He grimaced, but she ignored it and continued. “Maybe we don't have to handle everything, but this needs to be broken before we leave this place.”

“I suppose that's a little better,” he grumbled under his breath, staring at the words on the page but actually just waiting for her rebuttal. It didn't come, so he just kept quiet. Fighting was easy. It was familiar and normal for them. Whatever has been going on lately was different and unnatural, especially given the source. At the same time, it was kind of a nice and exciting change. It felt less like a curse and more like an excuse or justification for some of the things he's thought about since losing his grace... or since they really got involved in this whole mess. That didn't change the fact that it was still wrong and it still _felt_ wrong, no matter how nice it was. Maybe he had been thinking things like that for awhile where it concerned his Catherine and maybe he had too much pride to admit that out loud, but this was a two sided deal. It was wrong to give into something that was fake, but it was worse when he knew that most of it wasn't fake for him while it was all fake for her... It was just easier to fight rather than think about it.

After a moment, he glanced over to her and realized she hadn't been quiet just to avoid another argument. Catherine was looking at their gathered materials with a furrowed, dissatisfied brow. “We're not getting anywhere,” she sighed again. “If anything, we've fallen back. There's too many options of who this could be and we don't have enough resources to handle half of them.” After another moment of contemplating, Cat finally reached over a small stack of books for her phone. “I'm calling Gabriel.”

That statement definitely gained his attention and he looked over to her like she had slapped him. “I'm sorry?”

She didn't really notice the look or tone his voice had taken. Catherine just scrolled through her contacts unawares. “They can probably find a lot more information on this thing than we can out here. Hell, he's an archangel. Maybe he knows something we don't.”

“I'm an angel, too.”

She blinked and looked up slowly from her phone to him. “... I know.”

“We don't need Gabriel,” Bal argued again.

Catherine blinked at him again, confused. Was this going to be another episode like they had at that stupid restaurant? “Yeah. We do. We don't even know what we're doing here aside from acting weird.”

“No, we _don't_ need him,” he argued back again, closing his book and tossing it on to the table. “We can handle this ourselves _without_ crawling to him for help. I'm getting sick and tired of his so called _help_.”

He seemed legitimately angry, but the reason didn't make any sense. “What are you talking about?” she finally asked, assuming that there was no sense in this argument to be given, but still worried as to why he was so angry about it anyway.

“We don't need him!” he nearly screamed, realizing slightly too late he had shocked her but also didn't really care whether he did or not. It was one of those things that only whispered in the back of his mind before but had grown into something heavy in his chest as a human, and he couldn't stand it anymore. “He doesn't care. He'll do what he has to do and move on. He won't think twice of consequences, especially of those around him. Don't you see? He doesn't like or hate us! He's completely indifferent. He doesn't care!”

“Balthazar.”

He didn't hear her worried voice, or perhaps he was just ignoring the interruption. All he did was step closer to her, the anger mixing with a desperation for her to understand what he had been hatefully thinking. “ _I_ care about you!” he admitted, still moving closer.

Catherine was stepping back in sync with his movements. “Balthazar,” she tried again in hopes to get him back to Earth and calm him down.

He just continued on, “ _I'll_ protect you!  _I'll_ help you! Not him! He doesn't care about you! I do! I'm the one that's here; not him!” He thought back to when Gabriel saved her life from the ghost and left without a word. Back to when he could have saved her from Michael and didn't. When he helped her get over what had happened that night and hardly even registered her existence over the next few days. It hurt enough that Bal hadn't helped her himself, but the fact that Gabe seemed to have earned her trust while he couldn't care less for her tore it. Now she was seeking  _him_ for help when they were in a tight spot.

“Bal,” she gasped his name as her back met the wall. He was still approaching, though, so her hand moved hardly a few inches in front her which did very little to slow him.

His hands found her arms and he gripped her tightly. Not enough to hurt her – because that would completely backlash on his entire argument – but he just needed to make her understand that this actually was a big deal to him; that this had been a worry and a selfish pain for him. If she knew, then she would believe in him and not just simply accept how useless he was over and over again.

He was much closer now, breath brushing against her hair while he tried to unclench his jaw. “I care about you,” he said again in almost a whisper. “I'll protect you when there's danger. I'll help you when you need it. I'm the one that's here with you. I'll keep you safe. Me...  _I_ care about you.”

Catherine didn't know what to say this time and he had finally paused in his heated speech. Saying his name hadn't worked before in calming him down, but she didn't know what else to do. He was so close to her, so emotional, and the things he was saying- She forgot about their shared curse for a moment and words failed her.

He was waiting for her to do something, anything that meant she heard and understood him, but she just stared back at him instead like she was speechless. It was a look somewhere between shock and disbelief, but he couldn't pin down what she could be thinking. Balthazar just watched her for a long moment, licking his lips without thinking and trying to figure out what to say next.  _You're mine. Believe in me. Please._ Would that make her understand? He looked over her face again and remembered when she had asked him if she had been worth his sacrifice. Back then, he should have just opened his mouth and allowed whatever words he had to tumble out, but he didn't. He looked over her full lips, the small creases and blemishes on her skin, the curve of her cheek, her bright eyes that showed only a very dull reflection of her soul. He leaned in, trying to get a better glimpse, then he finally opened his mouth and kissed her.

Despite what had been happening, this still surprised Catherine enough to not initially stop him. By the time her mind came back to her, his arms had already moved to her back and waist and he wasn't pulling away like last time. Something told her – or perhaps encouraged her – that she had missed her chance of stopping him and one of her hands slowly moved up to his neck. The action only seemed to spur him on and, before she knew it, he was already kissing her harder.

He still wanted to make her understand. He wanted her to know that he cared for her, that she needed him as much as he needed her, that she was his and not his  _brother's_ . He didn't want her to go to Gabriel when she needed someone. He wanted her to go to him. So, he kissed her harder and deeper to try and make her know that, because saying the words weren't going to work when it hardly made any sense to him. His hand moved down from her ribs to grip at her waist, while he very quickly broke away for air before pressing his body flush against hers and went back to her lips.

It wasn't like she was helping to stop him, though. Her hands were against the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer. Her mind was completely wrapped into the moment, until he finally broke their kiss a second time. But one of Balthazar's hands shot down to her thigh, before he pulled her up against the wall and held her in place, moving his attentions to her neck this time. Her arm wrapped over his shoulders, but Catherine's eyes still opened and she realized what was going on.

“Balthazar.”

Her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears, and she wasn't surprised that his only reply was his teeth grazing across her skin. She wanted to just let him keep going.

“Balthazar.”

A low growl rumbled deep in his chest and she bit the inside of her cheek. This was probably the only time he'd ever touch her like this, which was the problem to begin with. This wasn't him. This wasn't how they were. But still, this was probably the only time he'd ever touch her like this...

“Bal, _stop_.”

He did instantly, but froze still as if the very word coming from her mouth had shocked him. He remembered their stupid curse, what he was trying to do and realized that, yes, she wanted him to stop. Balthazar slowly pulled away from her neck, a little surprised at how the whole thing had ended up. Trying very hard to ignore her red lips, he managed to mumble out, “Sorry.”

“It's okay,” she whispered back, not looking to him at all. “It wasn't you.”

His eyes stayed on her for a moment but slowly glanced down and away. It wasn't him? How he very much wished to change that statement and make it into something that was far less painful. Even if he wanted to try, though, she wouldn't believe him. Maybe, hopefully, she was just referring to the kissing and had taken what he said about Gabriel to heart, but he also doubted it. He blinked again and realized he was still holding her up against the wall. Instead of muttering out another apology like a halfwit, Bal just moved back and gently lowered her back. He felt cold again.

With her two feet firmly planted back on the ground again, Catherine sighed and looked back to their little table, trying to think about their situation and not what had just happened. However, she still stayed by the wall for fear of her legs being a little wobbly or something. It was a stupid fear, but she figured it was better safe than sorry if she acted nonchalant enough. “We have enough weapons and angel blades can kill nearly everything, especially Raphael's. You're right. We don't need Gabriel for this.” She glanced back to him for a brief second, just long enough to see his surprise, before looking away again.

He blinked and nearly refuted her but held his tongue again. He didn't want to refute her. He didn't want Gabriel's help. They were fine on their own. However, he also figured they were done for the night after that whole... thing. Balthazar looked at their tiny room and the two beds and remembered her coming from the shower that night a few days ago- “I'll sleep in the car.”

Cat deadpanned. “What?”

He took a moment to stare at her before raising a hand. “I'm not even going to begin to explain why. You know why. I'm sleeping in the car.”

“No, you're-” She waved her arms at him and scowled. “We're fine. It's fine.”

“It's not fine,” he argued, actually happy they were fighting again. At least this was normal, if sometimes infuriating. “Did you black out for the last five minutes? We're not fine.”

Cat shifted her stance as if she was about to start pacing the room, but stood still and glared at the door. “All right,” she finally said calmly, “all right. I'll sleep in the car.”

It was his turn to glare. “What? Why would- No!”

“You'll freeze to death!” she shot back. “I know how you are. You don't hide it well when you're grumbling about the cold in the middle of spring.”

“No! It's cold! It's dark! Didn't you-” He quickly swallowed his words, nearly referring back to his earlier rant. He still wanted to protect her, not the other way around. “You're not sleeping out there. I'll be fine.”

“You sleep like a rock!” she argued again. “If a tree fell on the hood, you wouldn't wake up!”

“Well, you're not doing it!”

“Then no one's doing it!”

He stared at her and, for the life of him, could not think of a comeback other than- “... Fine!”

“Fine!” She waved her arms again and walked around him, apparently ending the conversation.

He wanted to pull his hair out.

* * *

_This was worse than Abbadon and she felt like this wasn't even close to what he was capable of. A warm liquid drained against her arm. She tried to relax and focus on something, anything, to try ignoring the pain. The heels of her boots dug into the earth. One of her hands clawed into the dirt until her nails were torn and raw, but she didn't notice. She tried to focus on not biting her tongue and clenching her teeth too tightly when she could help it. Another chocked sob escaped her throat and she couldn't tell if it was tears or blood running down her face._

_He stood over her, his calm, young face tilting in slight confusion._

_She tried to look pass him and into the trees, stars, sky- but it was all blurred. Only his face was in focus, but she still tried to not look at him._

_His voice was rough, still, a little deep. “It's easy.” Her teeth clenched again. “Scream. Pray. Something... Anything.” Her fingers dug deeper into the ground and she tried to muffle a whimper. “Scream, Catherine. I'll stop if you scream.”_

_He began to kneel down beside her and she screwed her eyes shut. Someone once put it in her head that pain was worse when her eyes were closed, but it was better than looking at him. She tried to shift her focus again, going back over the hurtful argument she had nearly ten minutes ago, yet it felt like forever. She repeated what he told her in her mind over and over, not focusing on their meanings, but trying to focus on his voice. It was spiteful and angry, but it was the only words of his she could remember. She replayed it over and over and over until his voice stopped being angry and became calm and almost happy and suddenly he was saying something else, but she couldn't make out what. She didn't care._

“ _Scream.” The other voice broke through, tearing what thin balm she had apart. His calm voice was gone and she couldn't bring it back. Could hardly remember it now. “We can wait if we have to.”_

_She felt his hand on her. Her heels dug into the dirt again. She couldn't breathe. The world turned a searing white._

Catherine jolted and woke with a start. At first, all she could see was the darkness and she began to panic again, but her eyes slowly adjusted to the light filtering in from the windows. Slowly, her breathing attempted to even out as she remembered where she was. Trying to find Raphael. Got cursed instead. In a motel somewhere off the interstate. She glanced to Balthazar, who was facing towards her but fast asleep in his own bed. His back had been facing her when she cut the lights off.

After shifting, she stared up at the ceiling, still trying to get rid of the last remnants of that dream. She honestly didn't want to stay up another night, especially when it really mattered if she was on top of her game or not the next morning. Balthazar didn't seem to notice her lack of sleep lately, but it really wasn't all that bad. Sort of.

She took a few deep breaths and glanced back over to him. After watching for a second, she realized that he was actually shivering. He had bundled himself into a ball under the blankets and was still freezing. When he first complained about the cold, she chalked it up to him not being used to the human body. Lately, she had started to gather a different theory. Perhaps his grace really was a source of heat. Something that burned white hot.

Catherine blinked away the thought and watched him for another second or two before sitting up. She took her own blankets and folded them over so as not to carry it so awkwardly, and she rose from the bed. Quietly, though she wasn't lying when she said that he slept like a rock, Cat walked across the room and draped her sheets slowly across him. She waited a moment or so, but little affect was shown. He had stopped shivering so hard, but goosebumps still dotted his skin and she frowned. He would have definitely gotten sick in the car.

After a moment's debate, wondering if their friendly curse had brought the idea to her or not, Catherine decided to help them both. She wasn't going to go back to sleep if she was cold and not distracted and he was only going to start shivering again if things stayed this way. Without much more thought, officially deciding that her sleepy mind was what put her up to the idea, she slipped into bed with him. She usually woke up before him anyway... Cat thoughtfully kept her hands to herself and only got close enough to him to barely feel his even breath. She definitely didn't want to push things and this was creepy enough. Still, she couldn't help but watch him a bit before closing her own eyes. “I care about you, too,” she muttered beneath her breath, drifting back off into a sleep where Michael didn't exist.

Unfortunately, it wasn't too long until Balthazar realized that there was some sort of a change. A different smell, a new heat source, something was off in his confusing and unexplainable dream world. But when he opened his eyes to see, he realized that he wasn't where he used to be. He was in that motel room and the memories of recent times came back to him. He tried to quickly think back on the dream, as he often did after waking up to try and remember what was going on, when his thoughts stopped and he wondered if he was dreaming again.

Catherine was sleeping beside him... Once glancing to her own bed and back to his a few times, he realized that she had brought her own blankets with her. It was too simple and nice to be a dream, so he just blinked at her. Was this some sort of thing from their stupid curse? Why did she feel like this was a good idea? He offered to sleep in the car for a reason.

But he just watched her and didn't have the heart to wake her. She looked peaceful resting like that. He had seen her rest plenty of times before and he often took the opportunity to study her a few times. It was probably deemed weird by humans. They didn't like that staring thing. But he still just watched her and eventually looked up to the door.

They could just keep going and pretend nothing's wrong. It really wasn't fair to her, though. Perhaps he could go out and find their monster tonight instead of waiting until it was ready for them. He just wanted to find Raphael. He just wanted to do something that meant they were one step closer to it all being over. He had been on this planet for far _far_ too long and around _her_ even more so. Sometimes he had a thought that scared him. Sometimes it didn't, and that fact scared him.

He looked back down to her and watched her breathe steadily in a calm and relaxed sleep. It took a few seconds before he slowly moved closer and wrapped an arm around her. She shifted in her sleep, but eventually cuddled into him and stopped moving again. He watched her...

This was so small, so simple, and he didn't want it to end. It was just such a tiny thing. Completely unlike Heaven. Not what the souls perceived of Heaven, no. They lived in moments like this all the time and, frankly, he never really got the allure of it until now. No, no, he meant his Heaven. Where Michael and Raphael rallied armies together to fight their war. Where Castiel abandoned for the mortals. Where he stole everyone's precious toys and ran away. Father left. They all left. They all fought amongst each other and died and for what? For orders? He left for a reason. He was tired of it. Tired of losing people, tired of being useless, tired of being their toy soldier. And once he gained his own life and helped someone he cared for, everything was taken. Again.

Maybe this was better. Maybe just laying here and watching her sleep was better. Hell, maybe just being here alone was better. Maybe he didn't want to lose it all again. Maybe he didn't want to watch everything he loved die again. Maybe he wanted an ending... Maybe he had found a good ending.

He held her tightly to him and buried his face into her hair. Maybe that was just the curse talking.

* * *

When Balthazar awoke the next day, his bed was empty again and Catherine was milling about their room. It was so normal and surreal that it forced him to wonder if last night really had been a dream. It was entirely possible. Still, he ignored it and acted like it never happened at all. It seemed to work just fine.

Things were normal again. They had resolved to go back to that forsaken restaurant and end their problems one way or another. The two of them got their weapons together like on most days and things were all perfectly... fine. They were even talking like nothing had happened. Then they got into the car and Catherine gave him an odd look. He barely had time to question it before she was kissing him again. As nice as that was, it put an end to their perfectly fine morning. Balthazar found that the best way to come back from their random make out sessions was to start an argument, which they both participated heatedly in all the way back to the restaurant. It really did help to ignore it all and pretend that neither of them appreciated the others advances.

He shoved the door open ahead of his partner, not minding if they got looks from the public if he oh so accidentally tried to slam the door back on her. It didn't work, not that he looked back to check or anything. He just heard her growling as she walked in behind him. Before she could do or say anything, he was already smiling to the attending waitress, which was luckily the same girl from last night. “Good morn-”

Bal's words were cut off by an elbow to his ribs. “Hi,” Catherine smiled to the waitress. “We just wanted to stop by and see if your manager was in.”

The poor girl looked between them with a smile she was trying very hard to keep on. “Sure,” she pointed to the other end of the room. “She was just talking to some customers. Sheryl!” Cat turned to see the person in question and frowned. “These people would like to speak to you.”

The older woman looked back to them and smiled the same smile she had given them the day before when she was chasing a kid down the sidewalk when they first arrived in town. Catherine recognized her and began to go back over the event in her mind again. Had something happened that she had missed?

She heard Bal's breathless mutter beside her, as if he was talking to himself in disbelief. “I know what this is...”

Cat glanced up to him, but the manager was now within earshot. She stopped in front of them with a smile, hands clasped in front of her. “You must be the two from the Health Department last night,” she nearly chuckled, “Anything I can help you with?”

Quickly, Balthazar nodded. “We need to talk somewhere private, darling.” He had dropped the pleasant tone of voice, which Cat easily noticed, yet he still kept up the small endearment. The manager, however, didn't seem to take any notice at all and just nodded in turn and began walking to the back. Catherine fell in line to follow, but Bal grabbed her arm and pulled her back so that he could go first instead. As much as she wanted to argue, she just gave him an odd look and stuck close.

The manager, Sheryl, led them pass the kitchen and into a room that must have been considered her office, provided the desk and paperwork was anything to go by. “Please,” she waved to the room with a smile, “Don't mind the mess-”

Balthazar closed and locked the door behind them, cutting Sheryl's words off. She frowned at them, a little confused for the moment while still keeping her composure, until he pulled the angel sword out of his jacket. She glanced from the blade to him, terrified, then tried to dart through them for the door. “No-!”

Bal grabbed her around the waist and pushed her back into a chair, putting the blade to her throat. “We need to talk.”

Sheryl took deep breaths, but Cat looked at them confused, one hand on her gun in its holster. “What's going on?”

Balthazar leaned back up, but still held his blade menacingly. “Seems we've been struck by a cupid's arrow,” he said with a deep frown, not looking away from the other angel. “Who are you?”

The angel opened her mouth to speak, but her brow furrowed and she took a closer look at him. “Balthazar?” His jaw shifted. “You're supposed to-... What happened to you? I didn't even realize it was-”

“Who _are_ you?” he said again, stressing every word.

She leaned back into the chair and bit her lip. “Sachiel.” After looking him up and down for a moment, she came to at least one realization. “You've lost your grace.”

“I've lost a lot of things, sweetheart,” he shot back, “but that's not our biggest worry right now.”

Her face fell a little and she looked over to Catherine, noticing immediately what she was and fear took her again. “Are you here to kill me?” she asked in a panic before looking back to her brother. “You're working with hunters to kill us?”

He was getting more and more agitated by the second, so Cat stepped in. “We're not hunting angels,” she gained Sachiel's attention, “We're hunting  _arch_ angels.”

Balthazar stood quietly and watched the other angel look slowly between them in disbelief. However, while some of the fear had quelled, not all of it did. After a calming breath, he tried again. “We're looking for Raphael.”

After a moment of staring at him, Sachiel slowly shook her head. “I haven't seen or heard from him.”

Cat's eyes narrowed as she caught on. “Who have you seen?”

“Michael,” the angel answered, but bit her lip again from the fallen look she received from the hunter and she quickly shook her head. “I refused him,” she argued, as if pleading, “He asked for my grace and I turned him away. I don't know if it was right, but I remember what happened before and I didn't want things to-” Once she glanced over to Balthazar, her own face fell. “That's what happened to you, isn't you? You support-”

“We're trying to stop them,” Bal quickly corrected, hoping to steer the conversation away from the current topic. He didn't like hearing of Michael and he especially didn't like Catherine's expressions and body language when she heard of him either. “But first, we need you to lift this nightmare you've set upon us, so that we can continue along our merry way with as less of a soap opera as possible.”

The cherub looked a bit disappointed and Catherine desperately wanted a distraction from the fact that Michael had been there, so she couldn't help but wonder. “Why are you doing this?” she asked her, “Pairing us up? Pairing everyone up? What's the point?”

“Well,” the angel looked at Catherine and then to the floor, “I fell.”

They waited for the rest. Balthazar eventually motioned to her. “... And?”

“And I lost my wings!” she shouted unexpectedly, “You don't understand. I had lost my purpose. I had lost all purpose. I had to do something!”

His brow furrowed. “This is something?” he asked her, motioning out the window, “This isn't a purpose. This is madness.”

“No, no,” Sachiel shook her head, “I'm doing good here. I am.”

Catherine interjected, “This is wrong. It's not them. They're not making their own choices. You're making those for them.”

“They're happy,” the angel frowned sadly, “They've found love and peace.”

Balthazar shook his head. “It's not real.”

She looked back over to him again, looking as if she were close to crying. “Maybe not for all of them,” Sachiel slowly tried to argue, “but some of them-... Some of them-”

“You need to fix it,” he said with finality, expression cold and distant.

Sachiel frowned to him as if she were hurt and slowly looked to the floor. After a moment, she looked up to him and then to Catherine. “Are you sure?”

Cat frowned back to her, but before anyone could say anything, a scream was heard from outside. The two turned for the door, but Sachiel quickly stood and pushed them both aside hard enough for them to fall to the floor behind her. Both noticed that something had already changed, but there was something bigger going on now.

“You need to go!” she shouted, standing over them. “They have armies. Michael warned other angels would come here for me.”

Cat leaned up, but Balthazar was the first to find his feet. “Not until you-!”

“I've undone the spell!” she stopped him, “If you want to find Raphael, you can't get caught by their men. I can distract them while you leave. Michael allowed me to live. I'll be fine.”

Catherine stood and looked over to her angel, who looked back to her and then to Sachiel. “Fine.”

“Just run out the back. Be careful,” she said, slamming open the door and running to the front. Balthazar grabbed Catherine's arm and pushed her in front of him again to run. It was probably a good call since she was trying to turn back and help Sachiel before he dragged her ahead of him, but after a moment she got the idea and ran with him.

* * *

Night had fallen and the Challenger sped down the interstate. The ride had been more or less quiet thus far as they ran, until Cat looked over to her passenger. “Did you see any other angels?”

“No,” he answered with a groan, “She probably faked it to get away from us-”

“No,” Catherine answered back, watching the road. “They were there. I'm sure Michael doesn't take no for an answer.”

Balthazar looked over to her, but she said nothing else on the matter. After a beat of silence, he looked back to the road, too, and rubbed his chin. “We just have to find Raphael. That's all. The boys will handle the rest.”

She risked a quick, slightly confused, and irritated glance to him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means what I said,” he told her again. “We find Raphael. That's it.”

“And let the others handle everything else?” she asked to elaborate.

“Why not?” The pause his question brought from her was one he didn't care for, especially since he was trying very hard to not make a big deal of all this.

Eventually, she blinked and looked over to him again. “You trust them to get your grace back?”

That made him chew on his lip a bit. “They'll do what they have to.”

“We can't just sit on the sidelines while they're out there,” she answered, shaking her head, “We'll get your grace back. Me and you.”

He watched her for a long moment, shifting his jaw once again. “But Michael has it.”

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel and her lips twitched a little, but ultimately ended in a frown. “What? You're scared of him now?”

Bal stared for another moment. “Are you?”

Her knuckles began to turn white and, for a little while, he thought she wouldn't respond. “We'll get it back,” she finally answered quietly, “one way or another.”

“It's the _another_ part that I'm worried about,” he said, beginning to become very angry with the assumptions going through his mind.

Yet, she stayed calm and it managed to keep him from being outspoken for the time being. Until she spoke, that is. “Raphael isn't what's important,” she finally answered back. “Your grace is. We'll do whatever we have to to get it back. I'll do what I have to.”

He stared at her for a long, tense moment as she expected some sort of comeback from him. Eventually, he shifted and faced the road again, remaining quiet. Arguing was easy, familiar, even normal for them. The silence wasn't. The silence was worse, but she didn't speak up either.

* * *

Sachiel sat down in the dark, empty restaurant. They had to close for the evening after the unwanted visitors, but she was right. They had been one of Michael's and she told them the same thing. They left peacefully, never realizing that a hunter and a fallen angel had escaped them.

Yet, she still sighed. Michael was not the only one looking for angels, and she knew that. It's why she was doing what she could for these people. Running and hiding would do no good. It was just a shame that some of her work wasn't really appreciated by some... She didn't know either of them well or what was really going on behind the scenes that they were working with, but she could see something when it was right in front of her. She could also see denial and it always pained her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the dimming of the lights in the room. A coldness seeped into her bones as the world grew quiet, and she looked up to the wall. She knew he was there behind her and she was frightened, but stayed as calm as she could. There was nothing else to do.

“Hello, Lucifer.”

“Hello, Sachiel.”

His hand fell on her shoulder and the world ceased.

 


	25. The Devil Went Down To Georgia

Their previous encounter had made Balthazar hyper aware of the real situation. They were a couple of humans hunting down angels, and that notion in itself was laughable. So while it may not have shocked her, it certainly seemed to surprise Catherine when she found him scribbling anti-detection sigils over his stomach the next morning. Would have surprised her more if he didn't find that pen and went with his idea of using a knife instead.

The knife would have been a much better option, all things considered, but he hoped that this would only be a temporary issue. If it continued to be a problem, perhaps a tattoo would help them or something. He should have had Gabriel handle this for the both of them before they left.

Either way, Catherine was quite the skeptic of the doodles on her upper arms at first, until that evening when Balthazar found a place that seemed quite common with angel activity. A big building – looked like an old mansion perhaps – that seemed more run down than anything else. It was her idea to park the car and walk there.

She was currently going through the trunk, keeping in mind that these angels were weak while they didn't exactly know how many were in there. “You ever been on a raid before?”

“Not particularly, no,” Balthazar answered from her side, leaning against the back wheel as he peaked into the trunk, too, “Most of the fighting I've done has been infantry work, but I'm quiet enough to be a decent thief, I suppose.”

“Then we'll have to rely on that,” she sighed... before looking up to him curiously. “... What did you steal?”

He shrugged, scratching his neck and looking over their perimeter. “The weapons of Heaven. When I left, I sold them on the market. The Staff of Moses. Lot's Salt...” After a moment, he looked back at her to find that she was staring at him.

Cat quickly shook her head and went back to her weapons. “Never mind. I don't want to know.”

He nearly chuckled, but decided to put the subject of conversation back on track. “We plan to kill them all then?”

She looked over to him, holstering her gun. “Unless you don't want to.” If it were up to her, yes, she would go in like a traditional raid, but this wasn't monsters. This was his family and a lot of them had already died.

Bal could tell easily enough that she was sincere, but going in with kid gloves was suicide. So, he shook his head. “They've chosen their side. You haven't met any normal angels. Most of them are robotic automatons just waiting for orders. That's the kind Raphael has.”

Only, they didn't know if this was Raphael or not, but the risk needed to be taken. “Okay,” she said with a heavy sigh and closed the trunk.

* * *

It was easy enough to sneak their way to the building again. Despite the possibility of an archangel being near, there weren't very many angels on any sort of security detail. It was entirely possible that Raphael wasn't there and this was just some sort of faction grouped together, as they both continued to remind themselves. Going in with just the two of them was probably foolish...

Once unlocking the basement window, Catherine dropped down first into the old room. She was already inching to the staircase when Balthazar dropped down behind her. There were definitely people on the above floor and they seemed to feel safe enough as they weren't trying very hard to keep quiet. After moving halfway up the stairs, Cat even noticed that there were at least two of them outside of the door, talking to one another.

She looked back to Bal, who had stopped behind her upon hearing the voices, too. He glanced back at her and then loudly knocked the hilt of his blade against the wall.

The voices stopped for a moment and Catherine stepped forward, moving into a more relaxed position. Someone had to. She could feel how tense her partner was and he probably didn't like being the one in the back, but it didn't matter now. The door was opening.

The angel had enough time to fully open the door and let the light spill in on the two trespassers before Cat rushed him with a blade to his chest. Balthazar darted out behind her, moving quickly to another angel before they could call for help. Cat pulled the blade out of the dead angel's chest to parry another that nearly struck her, not surprised that there were more than two in this room. This last angel was quick, but she pulled out the archangel blade from her jacket in time to slice its neck.

She closed her eyes from the light before the body fell to her feet. Glancing around only showed the three dead bodies, Bal still kneeling over the one he killed. She looked around again to make sure their scuffle was unheard before walking silently over to him and placing a hand to his shoulder. He spared a glance to her hand but stood again and continued on to the hallway.

It wasn't like the raid was particularly easy going, but they continued to be lucky enough to get the drop on nearly every group of angels spaced out between every room. However, a glance to her own angel showed that he shared the same discomfort as she did. Something wasn't quite right. If this was Raphael, there should have been more of them. If this wasn't, they should have been more organized and militant. Not simply awaiting a slaughter.

They were both trying to catch their breath after a group of particularly skilled ones that almost got the better of them. In the quiet, nothing else could really be heard and Bal risked talking. “Where haven't we been yet? We've swept the whole place.”

After a couple of calming breaths and rethinking that perhaps keeping one or two of them alive would have done better for information, Catherine looked around. “There was more building to the west from the outside,” she said, thinking back, “There must be a door we missed.”

“If they're hiding something-” She nodded before he could finish. Bal glanced away again, looking down to the body of one of the angels. They were all wearing suits, all in groups of three to four. They had a hard time being organized in an impromptu fight, like they couldn't really think for themselves.

“What do you think?” her voice asked him quietly and he took a moment to look around at the building they were in. Quite old, but still nice enough. Reminded him of the saying _old money_.

“I think he's here.” They both stood in silence for a tense moment until Balthazar called out, “Raphael.” They waited. Nothing answered.

Finally, Catherine moved to touch his elbow before walking pass him. If the archangel knew they were there, he was waiting. Couldn't be anything other than a trap, but they had no other choice in the matter.

Balthazar stayed close as they made their way back to the west side of the building again to double check what had already been looked over. The bodies of the angels and the scorch marks of their wings covered most of the floor and walls, but it went unnoticed to them. They kept moving on as if a path were already laid out for them and eventually they had come back to the first hallway that had been cleared.

Catherine checked all of the doors over again, fully realizing that while it may have been a sloppy raid on their part, they did work well enough together for their first time at this. However, some of the rooms seemed to have been skipped over if an angel wasn't obviously present. Still, it shocked her a bit when she tried the handle on an ornate pair of double doors only to find it locked.

Bal immediately noticed and moved over to her just as she was about to catch his attention. He looked down to her, but she just nodded and held the archangel blade in front of her... He mildly thought about taking the thing from her but ultimately rejected the thought. Raphael wouldn't see it coming this way, whether Balthazar approved of not. Steeling himself a little more, he stepped back and kicked the door in.

The doors swung open hard revealing the lavish room on the other side, including their target. Still, Catherine furrowed her brow in confusion. Instead of a man, it was a dark skinned woman sitting in a leather chair at the head of the dining table. Her only signs of acknowledgment to them was the folding of her hands over her lap. “Finally,” she spoke in a raspy voice, tilting her head back to look down her nose at them, “I was wondering when you would show. I could hear you tramping through my house since you broke in.”

“Raphael.” Balthazar let out a low growl, but he at least managed to confirm his partner's suspicions. He slowly began to walk forward, so she followed right beside him, only parting to go around the other side of the table. “If you heard us, you certainly didn't tell anyone about it, sweetheart. Or did you expect those tin soldiers to stop us?”

“I was hoping they might,” Raphael admitted, sparring a glance to Catherine, “but then again, I figured if they couldn't stop two humans, they weren't worth keeping around to begin with.”

Bal frowned heavily to her, a small twitch along his mouth betraying his rage. “Of course not,” he growled again.

She looked Catherine over closely, eyes landing on her own blade in the hunter's hand and the archangel nearly snorted. “Well, Balthazar,” she spoke again, glancing back over to him, “You were always one to be fashionably late, as you called it, but for once you've arrived right on time.”

The doors closed again behind them, locking from the outside as if they had never been broken down. The two hunters both glanced behind them, but Balthazar was the one to look to Raphael again first. His frown vanished at the same time Catherine returned her attention.

“Hello again, Catherine,” Michael nodded to her before glancing to his younger brother. “Balthazar.”

There was a tense silence in which Bal didn't return the sentiment and only stared back to his eldest brother in shock. Raphael spoke up instead. “I don't know how,” she said to Michael, looking back to the human woman again, “but she has my blade.”

Both archangels turned their attention towards her and Catherine stayed still, frozen in shock and fear. Michael was the real target, but he was not supposed to be here. They were no where near prepared to handle him and she wasn't even sure what could best him yet. She didn't know what to do except grip the blade tighter. The action did not go unnoticed by Michael and he looked at her closely from where he stood.

“I'm not worried,” he finally said, locking eyes with the hunter and ignoring Balthazar's rising temper. “Besides, you won't need it.”

Bal growled, finally gaining their attention, “This is your fault. You're the reason there weren't many angels here.”

Michael just shrugged in turn. “I left the weaker ones for you to play with. The ones that were hurt in the fall.”

“You left me a choice!” Balthazar yelled back, “You said you didn't want more to die! Which is it, Michael?”

“They were going to die anyway,” the archangel answered with mild concern etching his features. “They refused to give me their grace, which meant that Lucifer was going to take it. He doesn't leave witnesses, Balthazar. Either I save them or he kills them, there is no other option now.” The youngest brother clenched his teeth, but the archangel scoffed. “I wasn't the one who actually killed these, if you haven't noticed. Humanity did that.”

Catherine spared a glance to Balthazar as he angrily stepped forward and Raphael stood to place herself between him and Michael. Cat hesitated a mere second on what to do. Stay in place or follow through with the attack that her partner's rage was driving? However, he had hardly taken two steps forward when Michael waved his hand and threw Balthazar hard into the wall.

He was brought to his knees when Michael spoke. “I don't think you're aware of my power, brother.” Bal tried to stand, but the archangel moved his hand and threw the youngest angel into the wall harder before he finally fell unconscious.

“No!” Cat hardly managed to make a move before Michael threw her into the wall opposite.

The archangel sighed, walking forward and picking up the blade that she had dropped in the rush. “Catherine...” When he looked up again, she was already running forward, so Michael threw the blade and sunk it into her shoulder. Catherine fell back into the wall again and cried out. “This is disappointing,” he said again, slowly approaching her. Cat looked up to him, one hand to the blade embedded into her shoulder, and was again frozen in fear. “You corrupt,” he told her slowly, “just like the rest of your kind. I was hoping to avoid this, but I have enough trouble to worry about.” Her breathing stopped and she watched as Michael leaned closer. “I'm sorry for not killing you before.”

Suddenly, his eyes flicked away from her face and Raphael was next to them both in a second. He looked away from her to see the new presence in the room.

“Wooow.” Lucifer whistled, hands resting on his hips and using his foot to flip Balthazar on to his back, making the other moan. “You knocked him into the next century,” he commented before looking up to the others. “A little barbaric for you. Actually getting your hands dirty with the riff-raff for once.”

Michael fully turned to face him. “You don't belong here, Lucifer.”

The one in question stepped forward, raising his hands. “Why not?” he asked with mock curiosity, “Aren't I family?”

Catherine just stayed in place and tried very hard to become invisible. The pain in her shoulder reminded her that this was all very much real, but thankfully Balthazar was still alive. Surely, she had to do something. Her eyes kept glancing from him to Lucifer... It wouldn't help anyone if they killed her.

Raphael frowned to his fallen brother. “Hardly,” she muttered before speaking up. “I've made my choice. You will never see my grace.”

“Never say never...,” Lucifer looked the other up and down, “sister.”

She pointed angrily down to Balthazar. “You can thank that one for destroying my real vessel.”

Michael raised his hand and all arguments ceased. Catherine could hear her own breathing as if it was roaring inside of her own head, but she didn't expect for the eldest archangel to turn back and face her again. “We'll just be a moment,” he said before harshly pulling the blade her shoulder. Cat fell to the ground, but the others paid no mind.

He turned back to face his brother again, stepping forward in front of Raphael with the bloody blade in his hand. “I'm not going to fight you, Lucifer. Not yet,” Michael said with finality, “You shouldn't be here.”

“This is war, brother,” Lucifer answered, finally frowning deeply, “I'll do what I must to fix things... I don't even want to fight in the first place.”

“We have to fight,” the eldest told him, “This was your doing. Not mine or Father's. This was you.”

Lucifer didn't answer. Just took a deep breath and continued to frown to his brother, but despite all of the words that could have been spoken, he still didn't say anything.

Michael seemed satisfied enough with the lack of response. “Until then, little brother.” He quickly turned and stabbed Raphael through the torso. When she opened her mouth in shock, Michael opened his and her grace began to pour forth in white wisps. After tilting her head back, Raphael's grace poured away in a blinding light as Michael took it all before she finally died. For a moment, he stood there still with the body, allowing the surge of power to settle before taking the blade back and letting the body fall.

He stood there, taking a few deep breaths, but it was Lucifer who spoke after a silence. “I did not expect that.”

Michael slowly turned his head again to his brother and waited a moment before speaking in a hushed voice. “This _is_ war, right?” They watched each other intensely for a moment, until the archangel disappeared with the sound of large wings.

Lucifer huffed. “Jackass.” After a sigh, his eyes slowly looked over to see Catherine still on the floor, obviously frightened. “I guess there is a silver lining,” he spoke to himself, tilting his head to find Balthazar still unconscious near his feet.

Catherine quickly stood on unsteady legs, gaining the devil's attention just as fast. He nearly smiled to her efforts, but raised his hands to her instead. “Please. What are you going to do?” She at least managed to give off a determined air, which just made him approach her instead.

Cat tried to move away, but only found the wall to her back so she stayed her ground instead. Fear stirred in her again, but so long as he was coming to her, he wasn't going to Balthazar... To be honest, the thought didn't really help. Why have one when he could have both? However, he stopped at a safe enough distance away which quite surprised her.

“We finally have time to talk,” he told her, moving an arm across his chest and one hand to his chin. “I've been lagging behind you two for a while now. I gotta say, it's been really annoying, but at least you met a little friend along the way, right?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion of why he was making small talk and who he could be talking about. Gabriel or-? Her eyes widened. “Sachiel?”

Lucifer waved his hand. “Don't worry. Miss Cupid won't be striking any more hearts.”

Had it really been Michael's men that had come for her? Had Lucifer been further behind than that? “You know about-”

“I know... a lot,” he interrupted, tilting his head and leaning to the side. After a moment, he slowly began moving forward again and didn't stop this time until he was right in front of her. “I know more than you.” He watched her closely, but when she made no movements, he continued. “Raphael wasn't your target, was he? Not your real one.” Something flashed over her eyes and a shadow of a smile played across his face. “Your target is Michael, because he has something Sleeping Beauty over there needs, right?”

She still didn't speak, not really knowing what to say in this situation. Lucifer's lips twitched at the corner and he began slowly pacing to her side. “Catherine... Catherine. You're smart,” he said, moving around behind her. She didn't move to watch him and just looked to Balthazar instead. “You're a knowledgeable enough hunter. You must have read some of my Dad's work... Or his prophet's work, more like it.” He had made the circuit and was facing her again. “You know about us. About what happened between me and Michael... And you know that I never lie to anyone.”

Catherine was frowning to him now, more out of anger and determination than fear. “That doesn't mean you're always right.”

He lightly scoffed. “I'm  _always_ right. Especially now.” Lucifer glanced back to Balthazar before looking to her again. “You know it. I know it. We all know it... That sort of thing is forbidden. Angels and humans. Sort of messes things up.” She tried to speak up in protest, but he slowly raised his hand to quiet her. “... You can try to deny this all you want, but he's in love with you – a weak, little human.”

She bit her tongue and stayed quiet. It wasn't like she could take Satan's word on it, but she couldn't really deny that things have been growing between her and Balthazar since before that cupid muddled with things. She cared for him, but he was still so high above her that there couldn't be much more than a fondness there. Then again, Catherine didn't know if that's what she believed or what she liked to tell herself.

Lucifer, on the other hand, was smiling again. “Now, with this knowledge and acceptance of the situation, and let's go ahead and assume that you manage to get his grace back, what really makes you believe that he'll take it?”

She scowled and nearly protested again, but he chuckled and began walking around her once more. “He loves you and you're pretty enough for an insect, I guess. And he has lost... so  _much_ over the years. Heaven. His family. His material objects. His weapons. His friends. His life... We've all lost so much.” As he circled around again, he moved closer against her this time and lowered his voice even more. “I've known Balthazar since he was very young and for all of his talk, you and I both know that he cares. Some would argue he cares too much... Taking his grace back, means to go back to an empty Heaven where war after war is decimating what's left of his people. Not to mention, it means to lose you. Oh, he would come back from time to time, of course, but he wouldn't be with you like he is now. He wouldn't feel this as deeply and, most importantly, he would be forced to watch you die... He could have you in Heaven, but that regret would  _never_ leave. Do you really think he hasn't thought about this?”

“It's not about me.” Catherine watched Balthazar on the floor, a bloody bruise forming on his temple, before glancing over to Lucifer by her shoulder. “This is bigger than me and he knows that.” Unfortunately, he was lightly smiling and giving her a nod.

“Yes, it is, but what else would he take his grace for?” She began to speak, but he said it before she could. “Immortality? To live as long as he can before another one of his brothers stabs him in the back?” Her face fell and he tilted his head. “He lost so much, Catherine. Between you and me, I think he's tired. We're all getting tired... And now he's found you... Who wouldn't take that shot of happiness before letting it all go?”

Her frown deepened to him, almost into something close to disgust. “You're wrong-”

“He loves you. He wants to stay with you.” She had grown quiet again and he lightly smiled. “What's so wrong with that?” Catherine had lost her fear and was now looking at Lucifer in anger. He just continued moving around her again. “But you love him, too,” he said whimsically, “And you want him to be happy and alive for as long as can manage without inevitably pissing off the wrong person again.” Lucifer stopped pacing in front of her for the second time. “I can help you make that happen.”

“What?”

Catherine stared up at him and he nodded to her suspicion before saying,“I want to make a deal.”

“No-!” She screamed, but he raised his hand to silence her once more.

“At least hear me out,” Lucifer said to her, but she just fumed back to him in silence. He found it agreeable enough. “I'll give you the means to stop Michael.” That got her attention and he continued. “You can't kill him – I won't let you – but I can give you a way to make all of the graces he's taken pop back out. He won't expect something like that from you.” He paused. “Then _I'll_ take those graces.”

She made to speak out again, but he moved closer suddenly and placed his hand gently over her mouth. Lucifer nodded again and said exactly what she was thinking. “I'll destroy this world and all of you little filthy creatures along with it. But I'll leave him.” He nodded back to her angel and she looked between them with fear. “When I'm done, I'll give him back his grace – force it down his throat if I have to – and I'll return him to Heaven. He'll mostly be alone, but there will be no one to harm him. As per our agreement, even I won't. I'll make sure he lives for a long, long time.”

Catherine watched Lucifer closely and he slowly moved his hand away from her. “Those are my terms,” he said to her, but after a beat- “You don't have to answer now. I want you to think about it... It is a big decision, after all.” She ground her teeth, wanting to reject him right there, but something stopped her from speaking. It was the air he gave himself. That dominating sense that any move she made could mean the end of both of them. However, he seemed to know she wanted to speak, and he raised a finger to his lips to shush her. “Just call me when you're ready.”

Lucifer vanished.

She stayed still for a long time, her shoulder pounding heavy and the color of the world seeping away from blood loss. After a long moment that seemed like an eternity, she finally decided that they were alone once more.

Catherine stumbled over Raphael's body to make her way across the room and landed on her knees next to her angel. “Balthazar.” She shook him and tilted his head to face her. “Balthazar. Wake up. Bal-”

He woke with an alarming start and looked around before wincing from a sharp pain in his head. She moved her hands to cradle the bruise and keep him from moving too quickly. “It's okay. It's over,” she said quietly.

Balthazar still looked around at the scene. The room was mostly destroyed and Michael was gone. Raphael's body was settled a few feet from them. Upon looking up at Catherine, he found the deep wound in her shoulder, the paleness of her skin, and the fear still in her eyes. “It's okay,” she continued to say, “It's okay. They're gone now.”

 


	26. Eden

She couldn't tell if Balthazar was worried or furious. He wasn't snapping at her, which she really wouldn't care if he did, but he was definitely angry. About which part exactly, she couldn't really say. It had to have something to do with them losing Raphael to Michael, but he was angry before she even managed to tell him that much.

It all happened maybe forty-five minutes ago and he had already dragged them both out of Raphael's hideaway, leaving all of the bodies behind. It had started raining and he demanded to drive for the next twenty minutes until he found an abandoned home a few miles from the nearest community.

Catherine leaned against the outside wall of the building – not bothering with trying to stay dry in the downpour – while keeping her jacket balled against the wound in her shoulder. Since Balthazar was insisting he do everything, she was going to let him go in first and do whatever he felt he had to do. Unfortunately, the first thing he did was kick the door in without even trying the lock. Cat rolled her eyes while he walked inside. Half a minute later, he came back to her with his arms out and she leaned off of the building.

“I can walk,” she managed to say just before he swept her up and began to carry her through the threshold.

“I know,” he grumbled. Cat didn't bother rolling her eyes that time. She just held her tongue and noticed a bag that he had slung over his shoulder from her car.

As he walked through the house, Balthazar checked into some of the old rooms again and carried her as he went. Catherine looked between his tense face and the bag on his shoulder, well aware of what was in it. She packed the damn thing. “It's not that bad,” she said once looking to him again, “Looks worse than it is.”

He didn't answer. Didn't really acknowledge that he had heard either. Bal seemed to decide on a decent enough room that was a bit cleaner than the others and he set her down on the floor, leaving the bag beside her. Finally, he looked to Cat – “Stay.” – then stood straight and left.

She waited a second before her shoulders fell in a sigh. There was nothing in this particular room aside from a small table near the wall and a window looking outside into the night. The thunder struck louder, but Catherine felt like she hardly heard it. She wasn't as dizzy as before and the world seemed to be gaining some color to it again, but she still felt weak. Probably from a mixture of the wound and facing the two most terrifying creatures in creation on the same day. She wondered if it was wrong to hate and fear Michael the most.

Rummaging was heard from outside her small room and a second later Balthazar returned with an unlit lantern and a shotgun from the car. “The door's bared,” he announced with the same frown and sat next to her, hardly looking up. After placing the gun down and lighting the lantern, he readjusted his legs and started going through the bag.

She watched him pull out fishing line, rubbing alcohol, a flask of whiskey that he gave an odd look to, and a needle before she finally decided to try asking again. “How's your head?”

“I'm fine,” he growled, but only his voice showed any change in emotion, “If you ask me again, I'll take you back to the car and we'll stay there all night during the bloody storm.”

Her lips grew into a thin line and she tilted her head. “Bal.”

Finally, he stopped and looked up to her. He even looked sincere for a moment. “I could come up with more threats,” he eventually answered, then went back to the bag and found a small metal pan. “I'm fine. Stop asking.”

Catherine frowned and just watched him for a minute. It seemed that he planned to stitch her up, but she was very sure that he had never done something like that before. She wouldn't argue that it did need stitching, but a look again to his face made her want to say it again anyway. “It really isn't as bad as it looks.”

Instead of responding, Bal poured alcohol into the little pan and began disinfecting the needle and line. At least he wasn't ignorant about this, which did surprise her a bit. She considered asking him where he learned some of these basic medical tips, but something else was said when she opened her mouth. “I'm sorry about Raphael.” He was making her feel more and more guilty with every comment that went unanswered. Right after she said it, though, she wondered if Balthazar's reaction would be one of anger again and she regretted speaking at all.

However, he immediately stopped moving and looked to her again. They watched each other for a long moment while the anxiety of what he might do or say burned away in her. Eventually, though, he just shifted in place and went back to what he was doing before. “I'm not angry with you,” he said softly. She was quiet, waiting for him to continue, but he didn't.

Balthazar busied his hands and tried to not think about it. She could probably stitch herself up as she had likely done many times before, but he wasn't about to allow that. That wound was his fault. He had left her _alone_ with Michael. “Take your shirt off. Move the jacket.”

Catherine stayed still for a moment before doing as told. The shirt came off a bit slowly – which he, for once, honestly didn't notice – to reveal her dark undershirt beneath and the wound a bit better. She probably needed a doctor, but he already knew better than to ask, so Balthazar fixed the needle and thread together before moving closer. “My first time, so... let me know if I hurt you too badly.” She gave a small nod. “Whiskey?” he offered, watching her shake her head for a moment, then seemingly change her mind and reach for it over his arm. He didn't say anything.

Catherine hardly swallowed her first burning sip before he started sterilizing the wound with more alcohol. Her face winced, but she didn't move away from him. She just heard him give a shallow sigh while his hands worked until he spoke again. “I shouldn't have let my anger get the better of me,” he said, still not looking to her, “I'm sorry. If I hadn't done that, he wouldn't have knocked me out so easily.”

She watched him gather the needle and line before beginning on the stitching. Cat closed her eyes from the pain, clenching her teeth while trying to focus more on the conversation. “No,” she said, forcing herself to take a breath and speak evenly, “You were justified... I'm sorry we killed them. Those angels.”

“He didn't give us any other choice,” he spoke softly, focusing on his task, “If we went in without the intention of killing them, we'd both be dead.” Catherine stayed silent again, not commenting on what he said and seemed to have just accepted it. Better that way, really. However, Balthazar realized that he was going too slowly with this stitching business in an attempt to hurt her less. It was doing no one any favors, so he decided to keep her mind busy. “What happened after I was out? I didn't really get the details.”

“You didn't stop to ask,” she answered, nearly grumbling about it. He was in a very angry hurry less than an hour ago, but she shook her head. “A lot, really. Michael-” Catherine winced again and she heard Bal give a soft apology, but she took a deep breath and started again. “Michael stabbed me with Raphael's blade. I dropped it when he decided to try throwing me into the wall. He was going to kill me. Said as much.”

Cat had stopped talking and he noticed her eyes had closed again. He allowed her a moment to not speak while he worked before trying to continue the conversation. He was nearly halfway done now. “Why didn't he? Not that I'm glad he didn't.”

She tilted her head to the side and took a deep breath. He assumed she was just in pain, until she finally answered him. “Lucifer showed up.” She could feel where the needle stopped in her flesh and she wanted to tell him to hurry up with the damn thing, but she also understood his hesitation.

“What?” His voice was low and when she finally opened her eyes, she could see that anger wanting to come back again, probably to just replace the fear he over his face. Catherine nodded to the needle, which seemed to startle him back into the real world before pulling it through and fixing the stitch.

Once he seemed to find a rhythm again, she continued. “They talked a little. Michael turned back to me and yanked the damn sword back out. Hurt worse than when he put it in there...”

“And then?” He glanced over to her seriously in between the stitches, not wanting to get overly distracted.

“Michael killed Raphael,” she answered in the middle of another deep breath. “Shocked the other guy, but he still handed his grace over as he died. An archangel's grace-... It's a little overwhelming.” A silence went over the both of them and the pain in shoulder seemed to decrease by a few margins. “Then Michael left.”

Balthazar began knotting the line, untying the needle from the spare inch of thread that was left. “Luci followed, then?” he asked, watching his hands on his work again. He needed to cut the bit of thread off, but it seemed he left any knives other than angel blades in the car.

She could see that he believed that was what really happened. It would be easy to lie if she was so inclined to. “No.”

His hands stopped again and he looked back to her. “What do you mean, no?” Cat opened her mouth to answer, but he was already looking her up and down. “What did he do? Did he hurt you? What hap-?”

“I'm fine,” she interjected, breaking his torrent of questions. “He didn't hurt me. He just wanted to talk, that's all.”

“Talk?” Balthazar looked quite disbelieving and she couldn't really blame him.

After a moment, she gave him a more accurate answer. “He wanted to make a deal with me.”

She allowed a moment for that to sink in, before he finally furrowed his brow. “A deal?” The notion sounded odd to her, too. Crossroads demons made deals, not the devil himself. Yet, here they were. “What sort of deal?” he asked, “What did you say?”

“I told him no,” she answered first to get that out of the way. “Or I did in the middle of his little speech. It was kind of hard to talk when he was done... Told me to call him when I _make up_ my mind.”

It was a small change in his features, but Balthazar honestly did look a bit crestfallen and worried. “He'll be back,” he finally said in a hushed voice, “He's interested in you.” She looked down to her lap, not liking that at all. She could also feel this angel's eyes on her but didn't look back. Finally, he asked again. “What was the deal?”

Catherine let out a sigh, not seeing a way out of this. On one hand, she honestly didn't want to tell him everything. Of course, she already knew she wasn't going to say anything on Lucifer's little speech leading up to the deal, but Cat still wished she hadn't mentioned it at all. “He offered to give me a way to stop Michael,” she finally said, “Not kill him. Just stop him and expel all of the graces he has.”

Balthazar gave a dry laugh. “Which only leaves Lucifer to win.” She nodded in return, so Bal just looked down to the extra inch of line from her stitches in thought. “That's not a very proper deal,” he muttered, “What does that leave you?”

Cat shook her head, her mouth forming that all too familiar thin line. “He said he'd give your grace back,” she finally spoke. A long silence passed between them again as she debated what to say next carefully. “He said he'd return it once he was... done. Let you live and everything.”

He was quiet and he stayed quiet for a long time. Catherine listened to the heavy rain hitting the roof, ignoring the pain throbbing in her shoulder. The sound of the rain, the fresh smell wafting in from the outside world, made her want to forget about the whole thing and just rest until it all blew over. Unfortunately, his voice broke through the silence and pulled her back to the precarious situation in front of them. “Why would he make a deal like that?” His question wasn't one of mock curiosity. She felt like she was being interrogated.

Her good shoulder bobbed slightly. “He knows we're after it. I don't know. Honestly,” she sighed again, “I think even Satan's out of ideas.”

She was finally looking up to him again, and he glanced away after a moment so he could think clearly again. “Maybe,” he answered. Bal stayed quiet for another long pause. Eventually, his gaze moved up to her wounded shoulder again and the extra line he still needed to get rid of. His eyes roamed to her arm that still had his blurry writing etched over the skin like it belonged there. He remembered telling himself when putting the marks there that he was only taking so long with it because he was stalling out of fear of Raphael. It definitely had nothing to do with the fascinating way the ink melted into her skin or how smoothly his hands could glide over her.

Thunder cracked outside, bringing him back to the present. Balthazar blinked and glanced over to her face again. Catherine was looking down to the floor, away from him. He glanced down, too, and asked, “Do you remember what happened back with Sachiel?”

Catherine's lip twitched and she tilted her head. “Lucifer got her,” she said, surprising Bal, “He told me. She's gone now.”

He was shaking his head before she even finished and then he groaned. “Predictable,” he said to himself and waited a long moment before saying anything else. “Do you remember what she said? To us?”

Cat looked back up to him and thought about it. “She said a lot of things to us,” she said after a length, “She thought we were going to kill her or something.”

He rubbed his thumb across every finger of his hand, watching the motion as if they weren't having a conversation. “She asked if you were sure,” he said quietly, moving his thumb across the backs of his fingers now. “She asked you if you really wanted her to break the spell on us.”

Her brow furrowed and she frowned to him, not sure if it was from confusion or worry. “So? She didn't want to break any of the spells. Acted like it was... something good she was doing.”

Balthazar wasn't looking at her, though. He stared down to her stitches and the writing on her arm. She shifted slightly, trying to lean over to catch his eyes, but she almost regretted it when he finally did look to her. His eyes locked with hers and neither of them glanced away. She couldn't if she tried and it worried her. “Catherine,” he said her name in a breathe and shifted his legs again to get closer to her, “It was my fault.”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “What do you-?”

“My grace.” Her features evened out when he answered and she looked down to the floor again while he continued. “You're blaming yourself. It was my fault. My choice. Catherine.” His hand gently found the edge of her face, holding her jaw firmly enough to make her glance back up to him. He looked genuinely worried, but there was something else in his eyes that gave her pause and forced her to catch up with what he was saying. His hand didn't move. “If we're going to get it back, then we're doing it together and we're doing it the right way. On my terms. Not on your own. It wasn't your fault to begin with... I need you to promise me.”

Catherine frowned and she wanted to argue. It was her fault. She was easy bait for Michael. She shouldn't have gotten caught and she should have handled the situation better rather than to wait for someone to save her. Again. She remembered the last time all too well. The edge of her lips pulled into a frown from his other implications. “I wasn't going to agree to Lucifer's stupid plan. What do you-”

“I'm not talking about Lucifer,” he said firmly, leaning closer again but she didn't back away, “I'm talking about everything. Don't do something stupid for something I gave up in the first place.” He could see the arguments already appearing in her eyes. “Swear to me.”

She still did want to argue, but her eyes softened from the sheer determination he was looking at her with. He really did want her to promise. He really did just want to be sure... and it was a stupid promise. She felt guilty, but... she also understood what it felt like to have someone sacrifice something important for her. Catherine's throat felt dry and her voice came out in little more than a whisper. “I swear.”

His firm determination immediately drained away into something much more gentle and his thumb smoothly glided over the skin beneath her eye, even surprising himself with the action. Suddenly, he remembered back to that motel room where he _finally_ had her against the wall and how wonderful of a situation that was. He also remembered that she wanted him to stop. The word bugged him more now than it did in that moment. Yet, his eyes were still locked with hers and neither of them had moved away from the other. It took several second thoughts, but his hand eventually left her and he blinked to glance away again.

Catherine wasn't sure exactly what had just happened. There was some sort of moment there and she wasn't sure what it was or what had happened to it. She watched him for a moment, trying to figure out what to do now or what to say or what she should even be feeling. Her current emotions were something like disappointment, but she tried to not think about that.

Before she could think of anything else, though, he had shifted again. Cat glanced over just in time to see him slowly move down to her shoulder, holding her arm with one hand to keep her steady before taking the extra inch of line between his teeth. Her eyebrow shot up, but she didn't feel any pain or pressure as he bit the extra piece off. He slowly leaned back up again, taking the line from his mouth with a frown of disgust. “Bloody gross,” he muttered beneath his breath, flicking the thing away from him.

After a second, a little smile appeared on her face and she moved closer to him again. “Balthazar-”

When he looked back to her, the smile she had faded away. His eyes still had the same intensity that shook between them a mere moment ago and she was frozen again. Neither moved, scared of doing something they shouldn't, until he finally moved back into the place he was before. She watched his face that she failed to read as his hand found its place on her cheek again. She quickly noted that perhaps she should be scared or stopping this before anything else happened, but he slowly leaned closer again and she watched him hesitate a few times while she remained unmoving until he finally closed the space between them, only to just barely brush his lips against hers as if he was still unsure of the action.

Catherine's eyes only half closed by the time he broke away from the small kiss. He still seemed unsure of what to do and they both stayed still for a moment, wondering what the other was thinking. She pushed away her own thoughts from before and closed the distance again to kiss him just as gently before pulling back like he had done. He still seemed frozen, so she kissed him again for want of a reaction when he finally kissed back. It wasn't hard or desperate like before. It was still gentle and slow while their lips moved together.

The arm that had been wounded didn't want to move much, so she just gripped at his still wet jacket with that hand, moving the other up to his neck. She wasn't thinking – didn't want to think – and she knew he wasn't either. Her hand moved beneath his jacket, lightly pulling it off of one shoulder. He shifted in the middle of their kiss and took it off himself, before his own hands moved back to her waist and neck, still kissing her lips slowly.

She knew that she should say something. Anything really, whether it was to stop or encourage him, something needed to be said. On the other hand, she didn't want to stop kissing him long enough to speak, and then he distracted her when one of his hands touched her bare stomach. She kissed him a few more times before pulling back and easily taking the undershirt off on the side of her good arm before he took over. Balthazar slowly looped the shirt from over her head first and then took the shirt completely off of her hurt arm, never touching the wound site or stitches. She wasn't surprised when he took a moment to look at her before his eyes landed on her lips and he moved closer to kiss again.

This time she pushed against him, but he broke away and she feared that it had been the wrong move before his own layers of shirts came off, too. She only had a second to admire the view before his lips brushed against hers once more. Catherine felt his legs shift again and then felt her back touching the cold floor.

* * *

Dawn's golden light drifted into the old house well after the storm had passed. Balthazar was awake and had been for about an hour. For once, he was the first one up. Though, _up_ was a debatable term. He was still lying in the same place he fell asleep in – beside her, on the floor, mostly naked from the night before. He had tried to awkwardly place his jacket over her to keep the cold away, especially since he wasn't chilly this morning, oddly enough. Just kept her close to him and that seemed to help enough.

Catherine slept soundly in his arms, though he still wished he had drove until he found a better place to rest that night. The floor of an old home wasn't a great place for this sort of activity, but it didn't really matter now. He just watched her sleep, moving a piece of hair from her face for the tenth time since he woke.

Other thoughts passed through his mind, too, and they were stupid and foolish and he knew it, but the same thing happened the last time she was sleeping like this next to him. He thought about the future and what was going to happen whether they win or lose. He thought about his grace and of the Heaven he left behind. More importantly, without ever consciously deciding one way or the other, he thought about how he was supposed to tell her. How she would take it.

Suddenly, she took a deep breath and his hand stopped moving against her hair. Her head tilted to the side as if she were stretching her neck, before opening her eyes to see him. For an instant, he worried what her first reaction to waking up like this would be, but she just smiled and closed her eyes again. “Aren't you cold?”

He smiled back widely to her tired, hushed voice. “Not really,” he murmured back quietly, “You keep me warm.”

“Stop,” she laughed, turning her head away.

Bal laughed, too, until she turned back to him. He watched her smile for a bit until asking, “How's your arm?”

“Doesn't hurt,” she answered, opening her eyes to see his very skeptical face. “It doesn't hurt _badly_ ,” she revised.

“Good,” he sighed, seemingly pleased with the answer. She smiled again.

Then one of their phones started to ring and her smile fell. Balthazar didn't turn to see. He just closed his eyes, letting his own smile fall, too. The outside world was coming back again and he didn't want anything to do with it anymore. After two rings, he felt her brush against his ribs and he opened his eyes again to find her leaning over him and reaching for her phone.

He turned on to his back, partly to give her room and partly to get a better view. However, what happiness that had brought him vanished when she looked to the phone to see who was calling and her frown deepened. He already knew it was Gabriel.

Catherine pressed the button to answer the call at the same time Bal took it from her hand and put the phone to his own ear. “Hello?” She frowned to him, but he gave a little smirk and spoke to the other end of the line. “Of course it's Catherine. Can't you tell by my feminine voice?”

She smirked, too, but didn't allow herself to take the opportunity to rest against his chest. Gabriel was calling and he wasn't known for just checking up on things. Maybe they had taken too long.

Balthazar's frown answered that question for her. “That would be because we found him last night,” he said and waited a moment before continuing, “I tried calling. There was a storm. Blocked out the signal.” She honestly didn't know if he was telling the truth or not, but he probably was. She just hadn't thought of calling and letting them know what had happened in the middle of everything. His frown deepened and the topic left her thoughts. “No,” he answered seriously, “Michael got him.”

Even she knew there was a silence on the other end and they both waited while looking to each other. But his eyes eventually left hers and fell on the still fresh wound on her shoulder that they had bandaged before finally falling asleep. A moment passed and she wondered what was being said, if anything. He spoke again after a silence, but his gaze wasn't on her or the wound. He was looking through her, pass her, somewhere very far away. “We'll be there before morning.”

 


	27. The Fall of Man

Oddly enough, nothing really changed between Catherine and Balthazar as seemed to be expected. He made a few more flirtatious remarks than normal and she smiled and laughed a little more but nothing big seemed to change between the two aside from the overall good mood. A mood they knew wasn't going to last as soon as they pulled down that driveway.

The bunker came into sight and Raphael's death was remembered with a heavy burden. That was basically their only chance, and they had failed. Miserably. As if there never really was a chance to begin with. What could possibly be done now?

Catherine watched the bunker flicker through the trees in the passenger seat, noticing that Bal had begun to go much slower. Perhaps she should have insisted on driving, but she couldn't really blame him either. “Won't Lucifer be after Gabriel now?”

“They both will,” he answered in a low voice, as if they were already being hunted. “Michael won't allow for Lucifer to be on even ground with him. He has to win. Our Father told him to.”

Her brow furrowed and she looked over to him. “God?” Balthazar nodded while she glanced back to the bunker again. “Would it be crazy to say that they know where we are?”

“No,” he sighed, “This place is still well guarded, though. They could find Gabriel anywhere if they wanted to, but this is the safest place on Earth that he could possibly be.”

She frowned again. “How are you sure it's the safest?”

“Because he's still here.”

Catherine glanced to him again but took a deep breath rather than questioning that. He was an archangel, after all, just like the others. That thought seemed a bit hard for her mind to wrap around until something else occurred to her. “Is he going to be angry?”

“No,” he said again, taking a second to look to her in worry. “He's not like that. Gabriel may joke a lot, but he knows what needs to be done. He's not one to dwell on things.” Michael may have been a good leader and commander, but Gabriel was always the smart choice to follow. He may have never enjoyed being in charge of something and his talents at hiding in the sand were second to none, but the angel had a good head on his shoulders which was more than what could be said for his older brothers. After a second, Bal added, “I can't promise anything for Dean, though.”

* * *

The Winchesters and Castiel had made it back to the Men of Letters only a few hours before Catherine and Balthazar. As such, they all sat in various places of the library, all of them watching Gabriel pace back and forth. Cat recounted everything that had happened, casually leaving out Lucifer's deal but not Lucifer himself. Bal didn't interrupt her to include that part, so she decided it was the best move to take at the moment. They watched the archangel pace, his eyes distant. Dean was already getting fidgety.

Castiel, however, looked worried. “They're both powerful,” he said to the group at large, “It's possible that they could get pass the security of your bunker.”

Catherine frowned, sadly realizing she wasn't the only one thinking that. It was Sam, leaning against the bookshelves, who answered, though. “Safer than not having the security. It doesn't matter how strong they are. Angels are angels. Maybe it won't stop them, but it'll slow them down.”

She frowned deeper. “Long enough to do what?” Cat asked, looking over to him from her seat.

Sam raised his brow with a worried look. “I don't know. Leave, maybe? I doubt we could fight one head on, even if it's on our turf.”

Dean tilted his head. “Leaving's just as screwed up as fighting,” he answered his brother, “They come here, it won't be knocking on the door. It'll be a raid. Just a question of whether it'll be angels or demons.”

“Okay,” the younger brother sighed, “Then we need a plan. And a contingency plan and a contingency plan _for_ the contingency plan...”

“Have any of you considered,” Balthazar interrupted, leaning against the table close to Catherine, not looking away from his own brother's pacing, “that they'll fight with or without Gabriel's grace?” The archangel stopped walking, only looking to the wall, while everyone else looked at Bal while he continued. “If we make it too hard for them, they'll just skip that step and burn the world until they find him.”

Dean scrunched up his nose. “Won't Satan know that he'll lose?”

Gabriel finally turned around to face the eldest Winchester with his most annoyed face. “Please,” he groaned, “Have you  _seen_ the ego on that guy?” Dean shifted as the angel continued his walk. “No, Balthazar's right,” Gabriel sighed, “Once Lucifer thinks he has a decent enough following, he'll go for it and Michael definitely won't be arguing that move. They'll probably try to find me during the fighting, but it'll be too late for anyone by then...” He stopped moving again and glanced over to Kevin, the young boy groaning and slouching in his chair before the angel continued. “We need to draw them out.”

Catherine was the first to react to the shock of that statement. “Um,” she blinked, “No. No, no. That, uh. That sounds like a really bad plan.”

“Against both of them, yeah,” Gabe agreed, “But it won't be both. Just Lucifer is all we need. He's the desperate one right now... Always has been, really.”

She shook her head. “How can you guarantee it'll just be him?” she asked, “We thought we were just going to fight Raphael and it ended up being  _three_ archangels.”

Gabriel glanced up to Balthazar who just shrugged. “Don't look at me. She's right.”

The archangel groaned, but decided to try answering anyway. “But they knew that Raphael was waiting to hand his grace over to Michael. They also  _know_ that I'm not handing my grace over for a front row ticket to a Ramones concert, which is basically all they have that half ass interests me. All we do is arrange something with Luci in secret somewhere that's not here. Michael won't even know anything until it's over.”

Catherine furrowed her brow. “Arrange...?”

Gabe nodded. “I'll tell him I'm forfeiting.”

No one in the room moved and Catherine wasn't about to even waste the air on telling him how risky of a plan that was. Balthazar did it for her. “He'll expect a trap.”

“Duh,” Gabriel scoffed, “But we still have the advantage. He'll follow my terms or he'll get nothing.”

“Or,” Sam interjected, “he'll kill you. Again. And all of us, too.”

Gabe gave another nod. “That's why we're going to make a plan. So that doesn't happen.”

The others grew quiet again, albeit debating the situation. Balthazar glanced down to Catherine beside him before looking up again. “I don't like it,” he spoke. “It's too risky and doesn't allow for much wiggle room if things go badly.”

“We all know it's risky,” Gabriel argued in turn, “If you got another plan, say it. You got the floor.” Bal stayed quiet, frowning to his brother. Gabe just sighed and tried again. “We need to do something and we're on a time limit now. I definitely don't like seeing _him_ face to face again and I'd more than appreciate a safer plan right now, but we need to do what we have to. It's... bigger than us, sadly.”

Balthazar's frown didn't change, but he did allow his shoulders to fall as he looked down. When he looked back up again, he barely had the chance to notice Gabriel glancing towards Catherine before he looked away. Bal's lip lightly twitched and he looked down to her, too. Her head was bowed towards the floor, her hands tangled over themselves in front of her. She wasn't protesting...

“We don't know anything yet,” Gabriel said, surprising them all into looking at him again. “We need a plan for if they decide to raid and we need a plan to draw them out, if we have to.”

Sam nodded with a little smirk. “Contingency.”

“You could say that,” the archangel answered before looking to Balthazar, “We'll do some digging and decide in the morning.”

Bal nodded, but Kevin shot Gabriel a look from behind the blonde's back. The trickster shrugged and continued pacing, but the boy knew. They had talked a great deal while everyone else was gone, mostly because Gabriel didn't know how to shut up. However, some things stuck and one of those pieces of wisdom came back to him again. “ _She wants his grace. He wants her safe. It's a very cute and complicated relationship._ ”

* * *

Balthazar dropped his things next to the bed given to him. It was the same room he had stayed in after his first run in with Michael and sleep started becoming a necessity. It was the only time he was ever in there – to sleep – so it never really bothered him too much until now, but it wasn't Catherine on his mind. He rotated his shoulders, looking completely around the room from where he stood, before sitting on the edge of the bed and watching the wall.

He didn't know how long he'd stayed there before a voice spoke from the doorway. “You all right?” He looked over to see Cat leaning against the frame and he wondered why he hadn't heard her approaching.

Yet, he still looked back to the wall before answering. “I've never rested somewhere I didn't feel safe before. It's different.”

“What?” she scoffed with a little smile. “That rotting house was safer than this?”

“It wasn't rotting,” he argued back jokingly, growing a smile of his own for a moment before it fell.

She stayed there for a moment, watching him before speaking again. “You said this was the safest place on Earth.”

“For Gabriel,” he corrected, “Not necessarily for the rest of us.”

She couldn't argue that. “Well,” Catherine sighed, pushing away from the doorway to step closer, “you'll be happy to know that three experienced hunters have made this place ever so slightly more demon and angel proof.” His eyebrows lifted, but she answered his question before he could ask it. “Gabriel is now our prisoner.”

Balthazar laughed, but did wonder if trapping him here was the best move. Then again, it seemed like he was second guessing everything lately.

She continued moving over to him, only stopping once she was in front of him, hands on his shoulders and legs nearly having to straddle his if she were any closer. “We still have time before they think a raid is in order,” she told him quietly, “We really are safe here. At least for a few days.”

His hands found her hips and he looked up at her for a moment in thought. Maybe they were safe for some time, but it wouldn't last. Gabriel's plan to draw out Lucifer might have been risky, but it was still better than anything else they had at the moment. The foreseeable future seemed... bleak and he wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. After leaving Heaven, Balthazar grew used to following his own path and never taking risky corners. That was what had him killed in the first place. And, once again, his brother needed him, only it wasn't just his life this time. Her safety was no longer a simple concern on his mind. It was the most important thing... He never should have gotten so attached.

Catherine looked to him worriedly, watching his eyes stay on hers while deep in thought. After a moment, she leaned down to place a light kiss near his temple. “Right now, we're safe,” she spoke again, softly and slowly to him, “All a hunter can guarantee is the moment. It's how things always are. Worrying will just make you doubt yourself.”

He stared up to her again until, suddenly, something changed in his eyes and he seemed to accept her words. “You do realize that the door is open, right?”

She smiled at the change in mood. “I don't care,” Cat laughed, until he interrupted her with a small kiss to her lips. “Okay, maybe I do care,” she mumbled with a tiny smile, before twisting around and sitting beside him on the bed.

Balthazar chuckled again while looking over to her, before he sighed and another thought occurred to him. “Did you let one of them look at your shoulder?”

“They asked,” she groaned, having heard questions about her arm for the past couple of days, “It's fine.”

He shrugged. “They're probably like me. Just want to see you with your shirt off.” The look she shot him made him smile again before going back to what he considered to be a serious topic. “You should let one of them look at it, though. They've been stitching themselves together since they were children.”

“All right,” she nodded, “All right, I will. Later. Maybe tomorrow or something.”

“You're such a procrastinator,” he grumbled, leaning back on the bed a bit. After a moment of quiet, Balthazar spoke again. “We are safe here. For the time being.” She nodded at the same time he looked to her. “You know,” he spoke again, shifting closer to her, “I _really_ enjoyed the night before last.”

Catherine smirked and it was the type he didn't get to see too often. He decided he liked it. “I know,” she answered, “I was there.”

“And we didn't get a lot of rest last night,” he continued, playing with a piece of hair along her neck, “Not for any particularly fun reasons, either.”

“So you don't like being pressed against me in the back seat of the car?” she asked with a smile and defensive tone.

“Oh, of course,” he answered, “But I would have preferred it was longer than an hour, more comfortable, and the primary purpose wasn't sleep.” He watched her smile before leaning closer and continuing. “I think that we should rest after such a long journey. Try to unwind a little. Just... relax.”

“If I didn't know any better,” she said, looking towards him and effectively cutting off his path to her neck, “I'd say you were hitting on me.”

“Oh dear. What ever gave you that idea?” he asked, “But so long as you're assuming as much, I think I can work with that.”

Bal moved to take her lips with his, but she just smirked and moved back. “You do realize that the door is open...”

He tilted his head to the side, almost shocked that she brought that one back around on him, but pushed himself off of the bed anyway – as if she didn't actually expect him to – and moved towards the door.

She had taken her jacket off by the time her turned back to see her and even started on the buttons of her shirt. “I'll let you see my scar,” she joked.

He could have frowned. “Naughty girl.” But he just shut the door instead.

* * *

The night had come and gone with not much happening other than more talks of possible plans. Aside from their _nap_ , Balthazar and Catherine tried to put in their own two cents as much as possible, but every plan brought up by anyone in their party was considered and slowly shot down. It was Dean's idea to possibly ask Crowley a thing or two, but Gabriel saw it too risky in case he wanted to include the demon community. No matter what was said, the demons were loyal and feared Lucifer the most.

It was early into the next morning when Balthazar began to move around the bunker. He walked into the library, finding Gabriel and Sam sitting across from each other at the table. The Winchester's head was buried in a book when he looked up and became startled, like he seemed to only just notice the archangel for the first time. “Can I help you?”

Gabriel waved his hand and rose from his seat, noticing the new person in the room, “Keep reading. You're prettier that way.”

Sam paused and blinked. “What?”

The angel ignored him and welcomed his brother with open arms. “Balthy!”

“Gabby,” the other smirked, walking right out of reach of the possible hug but not far enough as to avoid the hand on his shoulder.

“Walk with me. Talk with me,” he said, steering Balthazar towards the exit.

Almost unwillingly, he obeyed and allowed himself to be lead up the stairs and to the door. “Can I ask,” he said after a moment, “why you were stalking the youngest brother back there?”

“I wasn't _stalking_ ,” Gabriel defended, opening the door for them, “We were talking.”

He followed the archangel, but that still gave Bal pause. “Didn't look like it.”

“ _Didn't look like it_ ,” the other mocked in a thick accent while his brother rolled his eyes, “That's what you sound like... I wanted to talk. To you this time”

“Obviously,” Balthazar stopped walking, folding his arms over his chest and already guarding himself from whatever this conversation was going to be about.

Gabriel smirked, but the smile eventually lessened as he became more serious. “Do you have any other plans?”

The other sighed. “For all of my talk yesterday, no. We've discussed this with the others loads of times-”

“I know, but you were the one that brought up issues about the idea,” Gabe interrupted, “You were the one that said it was too risky.”

Balthazar bit his lip and shifted in place. “There has to be something else we can do,” he said, “There has to be some option out there that's safer and not as suicidal as this... You know as well as I do that he _will_ realize that it's a trap and even if it does work-”

“I know,” the elder one stopped him again. “We'll more than likely lose someone.” Balthazar shifted his jaw and looked away. Gabriel just sighed. “They know that. All of them do. It's not a guaranteed thing. Just another risk.”

“Do you need all of us?” Bal looked back to see Gabriel almost speechless. Almost.

The archangel stayed still for a moment. “Why?” he asked in a low voice, “Are you scared what Satan might do to you or-...” Balthazar glared at him, so he stopped dancing around the subject and moved closer to him. “ _We_ need everyone we can get. If you want to sit it out, fine. You've done it before and you've made it more than clear that no one can stop you, but you can't make that decision for her and you know it. She's brave, smart, and stubborn. What do you think she's going to say?”

The youngest just stayed quiet, watching his brother closely.

Gabriel looked away and sighed. “I'll tell them that's the plan,” he said softer, “but we need _everyone_... Okay? Or they win.”

After a tense silence, Balthazar nodded.

* * *

Things went just as the archangel said. Gabriel told everyone the plan they would be going with – adding that they would start the following day – and no one objected. Not even so much as an angered glare or a scoff or anything. They all accepted it, just as he had said they would.

Balthazar hated it. They all acted as if they weren't even scared. Was Castiel even going to be involved with the effort? Was Kevin? The kid didn't even know how to shoot a gun and Bal wouldn't trust him to not try to stab someone with the hilt of a blade. It was so risky. Doable but far too risky for him. The rest of the day was spent with him trying to come to terms with it as easily as everyone else had. What of Dean and Sam? They were brothers, but they would walk right up to Satan like this? Both of them, together, with confidence? Surely they both feared for the other, but it didn't show. Perhaps they've done this so many times that they knew what had to be done and was willing to do it.

The problem with them was that they cared about the bigger picture. They cared about all of these people that will never know their names. They cared about the world. Balthazar did, too, but he also had his priorities and the world had never been at the top of that list. Even in Heaven while fighting the wars, there was always a questioning in the back of his mind that was more than satisfied after the failed apocalypse. He had his freedom and himself for a brief moment before it was all lost. Every possibility for him to lose everything again was a horrid pain in his chest.

He should _never_ have gotten so attached. It was too late now. He cared now and he wouldn't see her hurt or dead for this. Lucifer already took interest in her. She would be the first one he killed.

“Balthazar?”

Her voice brought him back from his thoughts again as he looked over to her. He wasn't sure if they had verbally decided to bed together or not for their time at the Men of Letters, but he knew that she considered this place _their_ room now. It didn't bother him at all. Just that he knew that she would come by eventually during the night. He stood from his place at the end of the bed, noting that she looked worried. He just steeled himself. “We need to talk.”

“About?” Catherine closed the door. The seriousness of his features and voice wasn't lost on her. “You vanished almost an hour ago. What's going on?”

He shifted his jaw, glancing towards the door a few times before breathing deeply. “Just hear me out,” he said first to defend himself but it only seemed to bring about more confusion on her part, so he put it bluntly instead. “We should leave.”

Her brow furrowed. “What?” That didn't make any sense and the sound of it even more so. “Wha- What do you mean? Leave to-”

“Leave,” Bal said again, “To anywhere. It doesn't matter. We should leave tonight-”

“What? You-” Catherine looked around the room, shifting in place. “You want to abandon them?”

“It's too risky.” He spoke slowly, calmly, “Someone's going to die.”

“It's bigger than one person,” she argued back. “The world is at stake. Free will. Humanity. Two of your own brothers are going into this fight.”

“It was my brothers who killed me the first time,” he growled, finally gaining her silence on the topic, but he didn't like the look he was receiving. Something that was bewildered and almost betrayed.

Eventually, Catherine shook her head. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, “Why are you wanting to leave them to this? Just run away? After everything we've been through, you want to run _now_?”

“It's not about running,” he said, nearly wanting to scream to make her understand, “They can handle this on their own. They don't need us.”

“And if they do?”

“It's not our fight!” He motioned out the door. “Sam and Dean are the bloody vessels. Gabriel's been thrown back in dozens of times. Cas-”

“It _is_ our fight!” she argued, making him stop talking but also look away. “If they lose, we all lose. And Michael-”

“Forget Michael!” he shouted back, “I don't care about Michael! We shouldn't even be here!”

Her eyes flashed with hurt and rage. “He has your grace! You'll die without it!”

“ _I know!_ ” The world stopped while Balthazar registered what he had said. His mouth and eyes closed while he took another deep breath. She wasn't speaking and he didn't want to look at her. “I know.” But he opened his eyes again to see the confusion and disbelief back along with the betrayal and anger. “I don't want it back.”

Shock was an understatement of what she felt. “What do you-”

“Catherine.”

She shook her head, beginning to scream. “You'll die!”

“Catherine,” he spoke softer, slower, but he also took a careful step forward to her. She sidestepped him for a moment, but her feet eventually failed her and she stopped while he approached. “I know that. I-...” He tried to continue on, just stopping in front of her. “You... can't imagine everything I've been through. You _can't_. And I-...” Slowly, very carefully, he reached out to her and gently took her cheek in his hand. It took a moment to find his voice again, but Balthazar hardly spoke over a whisper. “... I love you... I can't lose you. I've lost everything before. I can't lose you. I just want-” He glanced away for a moment, trying to find the right words and wondering if she was hearing him at all. “I'm tired... I'm tired and I-... I want to be here. With you... They'll take everything from me again and I won't wait for them to do it. They'll take _you_ from me... I just want to go, just us, far away, where they can't ever hurt us and just... let everything go... I love you, Catherine. Please... I love you. I don't want you hurt. Not for this.”

She stared back up to him while he spoke. He could have easily gone on forever, trying to convince her and make her understand what he was saying, and she knew it. Slowly, she started to shake her head again and kept on until he finally stopped. “No, you-” The words stuck in her throat. She didn't want to argue against him, not really, but this notion of death- “You don't really feel that way. It's... all the humanity you're still trying to work out. When you have your grace back, you'll know that you-”

“Catherine,” he stopped her again, leaning closer while his other hand found her neck. “I have loved you for a long time. Longer than I've known. I know we've grown closer – I know that – but I _want_ this.”

“No.” Her voice shook and she grit her teeth. “No. You'll die. You got a second chance. You can't die. You can't waste it.”

“You are _not_ a _waste_.” He held her tightly, watching her take a shaky breath. Again, she was silent... What did he expect? Why did he think she would just accept this? Whether she felt the same or not, he knew that she didn't want his eventual death on her shoulders. It happened to her once. Why did he think she would be like him and just allow everything except for the present to be forgotten? “This is what I want,” he spoke again, “With or without you, I want it to be over. I just-... I'd much rather it be with you... Please...”

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't accept that he was even saying these things. Had he been thinking this the whole time? Catherine shook her head again, trying to take some breaths but not feeling the air, until her hands found his wrists and she slowly pulled him away. He looked hurt. She wanted to say something.

Catherine bowed her head and quickly left the room.

 


	28. Let Be Be Finale of Seem

She still couldn't breathe. The outside hadn't helped at all. Thankfully, Catherine had managed to leave the bunker without arousing anyone's attention, which was very good because she was in quite the emotional state. The worst part was that she wasn't a very emotional woman. Things happened and the world continued on. It was just the way things were and getting upset changed nothing.

But this? This was her fault. Maybe it wasn't because she slept with him. He had mentioned on a few occasions the number of women – sometimes men – that he bedded as if he were talking about the weather or lunch. Sex didn't bother him any and, to be completely honest, those conversations hadn't bothered her either. He was an angel billions of years old with a charming accent and a sharp tongue. Who would ever expect that to be a virgin?

If it wasn't the sex, then what was it? He was so old and had known so many people. What made her a special little snowflake? Was it because of his newly imposed humanity? Did she happen to just appear at a convenient time? Perhaps they had spent too much time together under harsh circumstances.

Once he had his grace back, he would feel differently. He would remember how old and powerful he was. He would remember who he was and who the humans were. She _knew_ he would. He _had_ to. It was the only option she had left. The problem was cramming the damn thing back down his throat.

Cat blinked and looked up into the night and through the trees. She had gotten that phrase from somewhere else... Her head bowed back to the ground.

Lucifer. That was risky business if ever there was one. He was also a being that could not be outsmarted. He relied on the truth and the wording of his speeches. She wondered idly if he had any deaf men in Hell.

Catherine took a deep breath and stayed still for a moment, thinking over the last few days. Balthazar's pleading for them to leave the battle. Gabriel's already very risky plan with the number of people they had. How long since anyone had last seen her. Bal wouldn't want to look for her for some time yet and the others would just presume she was with him. There was still a limit on how much time she had, but... she stayed there. Going to Lucifer-... There wasn't a worse idea out there. Even if all she had to do was tell the truth.

If she stayed, would Balthazar? Would Gabriel's plan work without him? Would it work with all of them? Would it work with a thousand men? If it failed, was there another plan? If Lucifer got Gabriel's grace, could whoever was left alive manage to stop the fight? If they did win, what would be done with Bal's grace?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, bowing her head to look at her feet. At least she wasn't crying about it all. Probably the shock's fault. When her eyes opened again, the glint off of the knife in her boot caught Catherine's eye. She stared at it for a long moment, thinking back to the last time she had used to the thing. It was too small to chop off heads, but she did anyway back then.

With a heavy frown, she unsheathed the knife and stood up straight to look through the trees again. The night was so quiet, the air terribly humid that it made her hair stick to her. Catherine lifted up the hem of her shirt and began to walk forwards, not really paying much mind as to where she was going or what she was doing with the knife. Her mind, for the first time in a long time, rested on Sidney.

She remembered the first time she saw him. He and his friend had been terrorized by some old man's ghost for nearly a week and neither of them had heeded her warnings until one of them came up dead. She saved him from the ghost and he wanted to learn about other stuff. She told him everything. Taught him what he needed to know to stay alive and paranoid. But then he wanted to join her on hunts. Said that he wanted to help save others, too. People like his friend. Said they could do much more if they stayed together and worked as partners.

The terrible part was that she knew that she should have turned him away. She knew that he had become a bit infatuated with her and that was not only a distraction but dangerous for the both of them. But she was young and wanted more for herself and he looked good enough and he treated her nicely and one thing eventually led to the other... Their relationship had lasted three years while they hunted together across the country. There were fights. There were make ups and break ups. It wasn't as dramatic as it could have been, but that was only because they worked together so easily and fluidly. They knew each other well.

Catherine remembered the last time she saw him far more vividly than the first. She couldn't quite place when was the last time they kissed or spoke or smiled or anything like that. She just remembered looking for the vampire nest and splitting up. She remembered being knocked out and awoken with five of them standing over her. She remembered hearing his voice, but not the words or sound of it. Four of them left her and she managed to kill the one with her little knife. Then she stood and found a wounded one – killed it, too. Then it was just blood everywhere. She remembered finding his head.

She often tried to not think about it all. It seemed like a horrible dream that wasn't even real. Yes, he existed, but what really happened to him? It was so much easier to assume that he just moved on or something. The truth was far too horrible to really believe. Not that she got over it quickly or anything. She just didn't think about it anymore. That was how life went, especially for hunters. She was in her thirties now. It would be her head soon as well. It was just the way things were.

Her own death wasn't some horrible calamity, though. She always knew it was coming. It was the deaths of others that startled her. Sidney's would always be the worst, though, because she truly had cared for him. Because what had happened was her fault.

Now Balthazar was in her life and she had known from the start that his stay would be a brief one. She had begun to care for him a long time ago, but that was just her being completely in awe of an angel in her presence, despite his filthy mouth and alcoholic problems. She was human. She was allowed to be struck by his kind and she was allowed to sacrifice what she had to in order to make sure he wouldn't fall to harm. There was love there, too, but it was a sense of devotion she felt was appropriate anyway. She wasn't the important one.

She couldn't allow him to do something so stupid. Meant to live forever, but he would give it all away to stay on Earth with one human for however long they both lasted? It did sound romantic. It sounded like a fairy tale. An angel falling from Heaven to stay with his human lover. And then his death would also be on her hands. His head would lay there with Sidney's.

She couldn't go through that again. Not for Balthazar. He needed to live. She loved him just as much, if not more, than she had loved Sidney. If he didn't have to die, if there was something that could be done to prevent it, she would make sure to do what she had to until her last breath. By her life, he would not die. He would not lose everything. Not again.

Catherine was in the thick of the woods now. The only light came from the moon and stars overhead. Even if it was day, she doubted she'd be able to see the bunker. Her shirt clung to her stomach, red dots appearing while she put away the knife in her jacket. She let out a deep breath and, for a moment, just stood there.

The nocturnal sounds slowly died down and there was a biting cold piercing through her back. His voice, lazy and cocky, spoke up from behind her. “So you thought about it?” She turned around slowly to face him, but he just kept on. “I mean, it was a big decision, like I said. Whole world. Up in smoke.”

She stared back tiredly to Lucifer. He looked the same as the last time, even keeping his distance from her and everything, as if she would scurry away at the first quick movement. To be completely honest, she probably would have wanted to, but it wasn't going to change anything. “I'm surprised,” Catherine sighed, looking Lucifer up and down, “All it took was a few prayers. I didn't have to kill a virgin or anything.”

A sound escaped him that could have resembled a chuckle. “Kind of figured that was too fancy for you,” he said, “Especially right now. I mean, you seem to be in a hurry.” She didn't answer back, so he stood a little straighter and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Are you not scared of me anymore, Cat? Michael scares you, I know, but I really thought we had something special.”

“I am scared of you,” she easily admitted, “I just don't really care right now.”

Lucifer just hummed in acknowledgment, nodding his head as if he understood. He probably did. “If I may be so bold as to ask,” he spoke up, “what made you change your mind?”

She frowned, well aware of what taunts were coming. “You were right,” she said after a quiet pause, “and I don't want him to die for me.”

“Of course not,” he sighed, “Who would? Though, I'm happy to say that I told you so.” Catherine closed her eyes and turned away from him, but he still continued to speak. “What's with the blood?”

Blood? Her eyes opened and she looked down to her stomach, her fingertips lightly touching some of the red stains. “When we invaded Raphael's base,” she explained, “Balthazar wrote sigils on both of us that warded away the watchful eye of angels.” She looked back up to him. “I didn't have a pen this time. If I'm gone too long, Gabriel will look for me and there goes all of your graces... Though, you could probably take him, honestly.” She heard that Gabriel was fast, but he only had his own grace. There was no telling how powerful Lucifer was.

After a moment, seeming to consider her explanation, he smirked. “I like you.”

Her brow scrunched up and she frowned. “Why? For the praise?” she sarcastically asked him.

The archangel just shook his head. “No, no... You bled for me.”

He pointed at her, about to say something else, probably something about the sort of people that had bled in his name before or how disloyal some of his demons were compared to her, but Catherine just frowned and spoke up before he could with a glare and low growl. “I didn't bleed for you.”

A moment of silence passed between them and she was pretty sure he was offended in some way, but Lucifer spoke up again. “That must hurt,” he said, looking to her blood stained shirt for a moment, “You're very strong. I'm happy that you've joined the winning team, Catherine.”

She only frowned in return. “You talk a lot.”

He scoffed. “You really don't care, do you?” Obviously not wanting to push things too far, Cat stayed quiet and didn't say anything. He watched her for a moment, taking his own sweet time, before slowly walking closer to her. She shifted in place, but didn't move away. He only barely seemed to notice before speaking again. “You are familiar with the art of deal making, aren't you? I would say, since I am who I am, that there would have to be more to the contract, but you're also... ah,” Lucifer scrunched up his face and shivered, “ _human_. Even you have to admit that you people were never the cleanest sort.”

She would even dare to believe that he was trying to make her angry just to get a reaction from her. Catherine just glared back to him. “Satan's a germaphobe,” she eventually said with a nod, “Useful.” No matter what he did or said, it was too late for her to back out of this situation now. She would have to go in and either win or fail. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“I'm going to enjoy you in Hell,” he said coldly, watching her frown fall away and being proud of it. “You got a knife, apparently. You'll need to cut Michael's throat. Say a few words and the graces will just come pouring on out. Except for his, but... I think I can manage that.”

Her frown quickly came back. “How am I supposed to get that close to him? He's not-”

“Shut up.” She did and he continued. “That's all part of the deal. You'll sort of have an out of body experience... until you cut him open... and it'll take a little while to get back to the both of you but don't worry. I'm sure you'll provide a wonderful distraction until I'm there. He won't kill you, but he won't be your biggest fan either.”

Now the fear was finally starting to set in. This was risky and had too many possibilities of failure. Not to mention the obvious problem. Catherine bit her cheek and took a deep breath. “I guess I should have expected that.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but I hear you're used to him by now. He wasn't angry before, though.” She glared back at him, but didn't say anything. “Now,” his hands found her shoulders, “let's get this over with, shall we?”

As Lucifer leaned in, she pulled away. “Balthazar.”

He frowned to her and she felt a dull pain pulse through her arms and over the old wound in her shoulder. “I told you,” he said, “He'll be saved. I never go back on my word, Catherine. I don't lie.” He gripped her shoulders harder and held her in place. “Lucky for you, I'm also patient.” Lucifer then pulled her closer and kissed her full on the lips.

If the touch of him on her shoulders didn't remind her of who this was, the kiss certainly did. It seemed to take forever for him to break away. When he did, she was left with a coldness that seemed to nest down in her core and she feared it would never leave.

When she opened her eyes, however, she saw Lucifer making a face of disgust. “ _Humans_ ,” he grumbled, then shook his head and smacked his lips, “Seems my little brother likes you just as much as I thought, though.” Catherine glared at him just as soon as he turned serious. “Go north,” he said, “When you see him, walk straight up to him and slit his throat.”

“What do I say?” she asked, remembering there had to be words spoken.

“You know the words,” he answered, “It's Enochian. I gave them to you.”

The kiss. She frowned. “If all I have to do is go north, then why won't you be there?”

He almost smirked to the question. “It's called cat and mouse, dear,” he said with amusement, “I'll lead him to you, but I have to vanish when he gets here or you lose your chance.” Finally, his hands left her shoulders. “And Catherine, don't hesitate. If it fails, I'll hurt you a lot, okay?”

Before she was done nodding, he was going. Catherine grimaced, bending forward and lightly touching the wounds on her stomach. Her entire torso had been throbbing since he showed up.

Go north, he says. Catherine groaned before unsheathing the knife again and walking on. If she lived though this stupid contract, she was sure that disgusting kiss would never leave her. More importantly, she wondered about Balthazar and if he had decided to look for her or not yet. Perhaps he decided to let them both have the night to consider the conversation. Perhaps he decided to hell with it and just left without looking at all. It wasn't as if she seemed to return his feelings, did she? Perhaps she hurt him far more than she thought. She hoped not. She hoped he had looked for her and maybe even gone to Gabriel by now. So much depended on it.

She was so stupid. The feeling only just really washed over her in that moment. Maybe there was no other choice now than this. Maybe there never was. Whether the stupid thing failed or succeeded, he would hate her. If that hate drove him to choose to take his wings back, perhaps she could live with it.

On the other hand, this all felt a bit too easy. Maybe it was because she was doing the wrong thing, but it was still Michael. How could this be easy?

She walked along for maybe a mile, when there was a sound of large wings. Catherine stopped moving out of instinct and stayed quiet to listen. Was it Michael? Gabriel? Lucifer had told her not to hesitate. Taking a deep, silent breath, she moved forward through the trees until he became visible.

Michael just stood there, looking up to the sky with a frown as if he were thinking and he seemed to have no idea she was there. Was this a trick? Michael was the first angel. How could he not know about a human standing ten feet away from him? He only stared up to the sky and Cat realized her feet hadn't actually stopped moving yet. What if he decided to leave before she could get her shot? Everything would be over. He had Balthazar-

Michael took a step and she ran forward, the last few feet moving away from her far too quickly and, before she could realize it, her knife whistled through the air and the archangel's throat was sliced. It all happened so quickly. She heard words being spoken by her own voice, but hardly noticed that she was speaking them. She had just struck Michael. She had _wounded_ Michael. He was going to hurt her, but Lucifer was right. He wouldn't kill her. He would want to hurt her badly. The thought made her shuffle back just as quickly as she cut him.

But he hardly glanced over to her before his head fell back and a bright white light ruptured through him. Catherine fell back to the ground, covering her eyes as she realized that it was the graces. That had been so easy. Of course it was easy. She chanced a look to him and had never seen something so bright in her life. The graces shot from him as if they were trying to fly away, but they all just pooled to the ground a few yards away from them, acting like they had no other place to go but wanted to be away all the same... She could relate.

While the last few graces poured away, Catherine tried to crawl backwards on the ground. Lucifer also wanted her to act as a distraction, but she remembered the last times she was in the presence of Micheal. He frightened her far more than anything else could. Satan or Hell had nothing on him.

He took a deep breath and choked. With a cough, his knees brought him to the hard ground. Blood drained down his chest and had started to trickle out of his mouth when he suddenly glanced over to her. His blue eyes glowed and his face was contorted with shock. Then anger.

She tried to get up and run before her body was dragged back to him. The world went dark and the pain began again. This time she even thought that she was screaming.

His graces were gone. Even Raphael's. Michael brought a hand up to his neck before looking at the bloody red palm. He couldn't gain them back. Not right now. He knew that the hunter girl hadn't acted alone in this, but this wasn't something Gabriel would pull. Not while leaving her by herself, at least. No, this was a different brother.

His face pulled into a sneer as he stood and looked down on her. There wasn't as much blood as the first time. That was mostly for show, really. He knew Balthazar wouldn't leave those woods without her. It was just her fault that she didn't really get it over with sooner. Now, though? He didn't need blood to make her hurt.

“Look at me,” he growled, kicking her ribs hard enough to twist her over on the ground to face him. His voice was mostly lost on him. It just sounded raspy and rough after her deep gash. “You fool. What did he promise you?” She didn't speak, of course. Just bit her lip as hard as she could. “It won't be worth it. I should have never have left you alive. _Ever!_ You corruptive creature! All of you are!”

She whimpered before spitting up blood. It only seemed to make him angrier. “You will die and you will die horribly in the hopes that you might learn something. Now. Behind me.” He waved an arm and threw her to the side so that he could see the graces pooling and bubbling away from him. They wanted to _be_ somewhere – be a part of something – but there was a confusion. Michael began to walk forward, Catherine being dragged behind him like he was pulling her, but the graces slowly moved away the closer he got. They moved into a small clearing in the brush where the sky could be clearly seen and tall grass covered the ground instead of dead leaves and twigs. The graces just weaved through the grass, getting further and further away.

Michael angrily stopped walking along the edge of the little clearing. The white wisps continued on for several feet before gently flowing to a stop as well. The archangel growled in his throat. “That spell of yours... It'll be some time before I can even touch a grace again. Even my own is burning.” He turned around to face her again. “What did he promise you?”

There was no answer. Catherine laid still on the ground, trying to take shallow breaths to not hurt herself further. Any movement sent a painful jolt through her body, so she just stayed there, one arm wrapped around her torso and the hand clutching so hard to her shirt that the knuckles had gone white.

He watched her lay there, not answering him, hardly even breathing. “He's going to burn everything if he gets here before I can reclaim them,” he spoke and still didn't receive an answer. “Did you want the world to end? I was going to save it. I was going to save all of you. My Father commanded me to love mankind and I do! I would have saved everything!” She knew what he was preaching. Gabriel and Dean had already explained it. She just continued to stay quiet, not feeling like trying to talk sense into him. His voice broke her thoughts. “Either way, we have time,” he told her, slowing inching closer, “Lucifer will get here or your spell will wear off, but we'll still make the most of what time we have. Won't we?”

Catherine slowly turned her head, the first sign of life from her in several minutes as she looked up to him and watched him approach her through half lidded eyes. She was scared and there was a coldness building in her that frightened her more. He was going to kill her. She was going to die. Her mind instantly went to Sidney and just as quickly moved to Balthazar. The way they had parted wasn't fair. She really should have said something. Literally anything that amounted to the truth. She loved him dearly and all he knew was that she walked away from his confession and didn't come back. How was that right?

Maybe she was right about an angel's fickleness and he already hated her and didn't care one way or the other. Maybe he had already looked for her and gone to Gabriel, but that wouldn't help now.

“Brother.”

She slowly blinked, hearing that horrible graveled voice and finding that she was thankful for the devil. Catherine took in a shaky, relieved breath, as Michael narrowed his eyes and turned around.

Lucifer stood there, in between his big brother and the graces that mingled into the grass. He glanced down to the hunter and back up again. “I have a contract. You can't just do stuff like this, you know.”

“Lucifer.” Michael frowned deeply, seeming to barely hold his anger. “Cheap tricks were never beneath you, but this is ridiculous.”

“It's war, dear brother.” He lightly smiled and glanced back to the white mists. “Those are mine now.” When he looked back to Michael, the other glared at him hard.

After a deep breath, the elder spoke, “I won't let you take them. Not without a fight and you know-”

“I don't care,” Satan chuckled, “We missed the mark by years, Michael. Does any of it even matter anymore? Yes, you and I both want things to be resolved and I respect that, but the road to get there?” He shrugged. “The way to sin is always the easiest, wouldn't you agree?”

The other nearly growled, but a sound from behind him gave him pause. Once Lucifer glanced over, he turned as well to see Catherine, slowly trying to make her way to her knees, hand still clutching hard to her shirt as if that alone took the pain away. Michael narrowed his eyes, as if he were confused by what he was seeing happen in front of him. Lucifer just chuckled again. “Well, she's a pistol, I'll give her that. Don't worry, Catherine. The men are talking.”

She didn't say anything. Once Cat gained some balance to her knees, she put one leg beneath her and hauled herself up to the best standing position she could manage. Once finally standing, she allowed herself to finally cough and let the blood that had collected in her throat to ease away, but the act made her stumble slightly. After another breath and she was sure she was balanced again, she looked up to the angels in front of her. Lucifer looked impressed. Michael only tilted his head, seeming more and more confused the longer she was able to stand. She knew what he was thinking. Humans were such versatile and driven creatures that could never really be categorized or some sort of long meaningful speech that she knew he hated even thinking about.

Catherine took one more breath, wishing that the air in her lungs didn't hurt so badly, before she began to pull and rip a piece of her shirt off. She greatly enjoyed the split second of their faces falling once their eyes landed on the banishing sigil carved into her stomach, decorated along the sides with the anti-detection sigils she had talked about earlier. Balthazar had shown this to her a very long time ago, before she even met the Winchesters. She still wondered if he gave her that knowledge out of fear of Castiel or as a sign of trust... She thought of the last time she had seen him and her chest felt hollow.

Lucifer and Michael both looked up to her quickly, her hand finally untangling itself from the piece of cloth. Such a quick second passed that seemed like an eternity where no one knew what the other was going to do. And then-

“ _No!_ ” Satan's shout brought them all back. Both angels raised their arms to her and she quickly brought a hand down against her stomach.

A bright light and the sound of screams erupted in the area. Then, just as quickly as it began, the light was gone and all noise along with it. One person remained in the clearing and she fell like a rag doll to the ground.

 


	29. Sing Me To Sleep

Balthazar still stood in that same spot. He didn't know what he expected really. It wasn't like Catherine was going to come back in and kiss him. Why had he been so stupid?

She had left a little over five minutes ago and he was still standing there like an idiot, not really understanding what he was feeling at the moment. It hurt. He was angry and sad and disappointed and he didn't know what to do about it. She didn't see things the same way he did... Obviously, she wanted him to live.

In his anger, he couldn't help but think how selfish that was of her. It was his life to do with whatever he wanted. Not to even begin to mention that she had literally no comprehension of the things he had seen and done and lost and- Did she just expect him to be happy about slowly watching her die? Did she think that he would just go on with his life without her and eventually forget? She would be in Heaven – if he lived then he would make damn sure that she was in Heaven – but it wouldn't really be... _her_. Most souls didn't even realize where they were. They just replayed through their memories over and over on an infinite loop like a machine. The same thing, the same actions, the same words spoken over and over and over forever without any knowledge of the thing. Somehow, it was a peace for them.

Some souls were aware of what had happened and they were aware of their surroundings, able to travel around Heaven as they pleased. But what if she wasn't like that? What if she was one of those happy robots? What if her Heaven had nothing but her dead lover in it? Could he watch that? She would be happy... She would also be dead.

Balthazar closed his eyes and bowed his head, groaning. He wanted to throw something. No, he wanted to go find her, sit her down, and try to talk her through it without inevitably blowing up. He wished he could make her understand, but a part of him knew without a doubt that wasn't going to happen. Catherine was too grounded and she cared so much for everything. Even if she...  _didn't_ feel the same way he felt, she did feel something for him. Then there was... that thing he never wanted to think about. She had someone she cared for once and she felt that it was her fault he was gone. He tried to stress as much as possible that his decision had nothing to do with her, but it was a complete lie. Yes, he wanted an ending to this roundabout of Hell, but he wanted it with her. It felt pointless otherwise. He would just have nothing again while slowly waiting for it to be over.

Maybe he shouldn't have said anything about it. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all. Why does he ever try to talk to her? Why hasn't he learned to knock her out and just drag her away from danger at this point? She was just so damn useless. Just like the Winchesters; always running towards death as fast as she can.

He realized that at some point he started pacing. Balthazar took a deep breath to calm himself down before sitting on the bed again. He reminded himself that she wasn't like that when they first met. Maybe she was willing to make sacrifices back then, but she never had a need to. He brought her into all of this... Why didn't he just leave her in Sioux Falls?

He leaned back and fell on to the bed. After a moment of staring at the ceiling, he glanced to the door. It had been over fifteen minutes now. Maybe she wasn't going to come back. At least he wasn't expecting a kiss anymore. He started expecting her to come in screaming at him. Maybe she ran off to tell someone about his abandoning idea. That would be fun. If Dean came in screaming, he'd just punch him. That would feel pretty good actually.

So, he waited a while longer, staring at the door from the bed. Nothing happened. Slowly, he looked back up to the ceiling again. There was a... sadness there. He didn't like it. Much preferred to cover that up with anger or, even better, to act like it wasn't as big of a deal as it was to him. He didn't want to think about the deeper meanings of it. He just very stupidly confessed everything to her and she-

He closed his eyes. He definitely didn't want to think about that. With a sigh, he resolved to wait a little longer. She wasn't going to come back to him at this point. Not tonight, at least. He couldn't forget the death trap that his brother was about to throw them in the next morning... but he couldn't very well go look for her now, could he? He felt like such an idiot. He should have known better. About everything. About her and what she felt. He never should have said any of that.

Balthazar stayed in place and just watched the ceiling, trying very hard to not think on all of that while he waited. Or tried to wait, at least. After some time, he started to rotate his foot, then his hand started twitching, and he finally looked back to the clock while biting his lip. Forty-five minutes. That was enough time, surely. He couldn't wait any longer.

He jumped out of bed and left the room, beginning his search for her on the base. She wasn't in the common areas, which he suspected. The others were in the library aside from Castiel and it seemed like they hadn't seen her. He didn't really ask. Cas was found in the kitchen on his own. His brother hardly had time to raise his eyebrows to him before Bal ducked out and continued on. Probably rude. He didn't much care.

He checked the garage and the car which was, honestly, his best bet of where she would be. His next guess was outside somewhere, along the edges of the bunker. When he did go outside, he walked around the bunker twice before resolving she wasn't there either. That's fine. The bunker was big and she didn't want him to find her. He would just look everywhere.

So everywhere he went, slowly getting more and more worried. He checked every bedroom, all of the storage rooms, the computer rooms, the armory, the shooting range, bathrooms, _freaking everywhere_. She wasn't even there and she made him want to scream. The last place he checked was the dungeon, and if she was in there talking to Crowley then he was going to have some words with her.

When he opened the doors, a light came on and the King of Hell groaned. “Oh, it's you,” he sighed out, “Be a dear and stay dead next time, yeah? Damn angels.”

Balthazar just stared at him, then quickly glanced around the room. No Catherine. She hadn't even been there.

“Ohhh,” Crowley smirked, gaining the angel's attention, “Someone looks stressed out. Want to sit on my lap and tell me all-?”

“Shut up.” Bal closed the doors and quickly walked out, vaguely hearing the demon whine about at least leaving the lights on for him or something to that effect. He hardly heard. Catherine wasn't in the bunker unless she had been moving as he looked around or there was a place he didn't know about. He could check again, but that meant taking more time. What if she really wasn't there? The car was still there, though, so she couldn't have gone far... if she was alone.

No. No. He didn't want to think about it. She cared too much. She wouldn't damn the world for his stupid choices. She would never go to him. She would never. She would never.

Yet, Balthazar found his feet carrying him back to the library again where, this time, everyone sat.

“All right,” Gabriel spoke up as Bal slowly stopped in front of them, “This is the third time you've walked by with that look on your-”

“Have you seen Catherine?” he asked the group, interrupting his brother who tilted his head.

Everyone went silent. Dean took a deep breath and raised his beer to his lips. “I'm guessing there was a fight, yeah?”

Balthazar turned to the Winchester and growled. “I'm serious.” The hunter shut his mouth and drank his beer, so the angel looked back to his older brother. “Can you sense her?”

Gabriel sighed and waved his arm. “Look, whatever's going on, she probably just-...” His voice trailed and he stared at a spot on the wall pass his brother's head. After a moment, he blinked and stood up. “I can't see her.”

Dean choked on his drink. “What do you mean, you can't see her?”

The younger angel interrupted again. “What about Lucifer?”

Everyone stopped jumping up from their seats to stare at Balthazar. Gabriel looked at his brother closer. “Why should I be looking for Lucifer?”

“Because he-!” Bal stopped before going on a rant and changed the direction of the conversation. “I don't have time! Can you sense him or not?”

“He's-” Gabriel shook his head. “He's like hours away or something right now. I don't know. I can't ever pin him down. Why are you-...” Again, he looked pass his brother. “Wait...” Balthazar was practically on the balls of his feet, but when Gabe spoke again, his stomach dropped. “It's Michael,” he said, “He's getting close.”

Sam charged over. “Close? Like coming here?”

“No,” Bal answered first, but kept his eyes on his brother, “No. He's not coming here. He's just nearby. I need to know where. Gabriel. Where is he? Where is he going?” The elder shook his head and didn't answer, making Balthazar panic and yell. “Where? Where is he?”

“North,” Gabriel answered, then changed it, “No, northeast. A few miles out.”

“And Lucifer?”

“I don't know! He keeps-! Hey!” Balthazar had turned away and was running for the garage, when Gabe yelled after him, “Whoa, wait! Wait!” He quickly appeared in front of his younger brother before he could get away, nearly making the man run into him. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don't have time!” the other said again, trying to dodge around his brother unsuccessfully.

“Give me the short version, then!” Gabriel yelled back, “What's happening?”

Balthazar stalled and stared back at his brother. After turning back around, he found the others all standing and staring at him. He looked back to Gabriel. Time was draining away, but he couldn't do this. He wasn't even sure what was really going on, but they wouldn't take kindly to his theory. How would they retaliate to her? Would they consider her a traitor? What would they do with a traitor?

They wouldn't hurt her. He wouldn't let any of them hurt her. “I think she made a deal with Lucifer.”

Dean's voice echoed through the room. “What?”

Bal turned back to the others, cutting the hunter off before he could go into a rage. “He was going to give her a spell to get the graces back that Michael stole! She already told him no once.” He looked back to Gabriel. “It happened after Raphael died. Lucifer showed up and talked to her. I wasn't there.”

The archangel seemed to take a second to consider it, but he also didn't seem to find the news as shocking as the others had. “Why would she take that deal now, in the middle of the night before we were going to make our move?” he asked in a low tone, as if he already knew the answer and just wanted to hear it. “What did he promise to give her out of the deal?”

Balthazar watched his brother for a moment, taking deep breaths as he tried to not think back on his earlier conversation with her. Eventually, he straightened up and approached Gabriel, getting in his face and reminding him who had the taller vessel. “You asked for the short version,” he growled only loud enough for them to hear, “I gave it to you.” The elder didn't say anything in return. He raised his head to look his brother in the eye, but didn't back down or push the subject, so Balthazar tried to hurry things along. “I need to find Lucifer.”

“No.” The simple rejection of the idea was startling until Gabriel poked him in the chest and pushed him back. “You and the boy band are going to find Michael. _I'm_ going to find Luci. Kev, break the seals.”

Kevin looked at the Winchesters before running off. Dean watched him leave and desperately wanted to reject some of these ideas, but Balthazar spoke up first. Again. “She's  _ with  _ Lucifer!”

“Yeah, probably,” Gabriel nodded. “But her target is Michael-”

“We can't wait until she's after him!” he argued, “We have to stop her from making the damn deal in the first place!”

“Which is what I'm going to do!” Gabriel yelled back. “I  _ need  _ a fail safe! If she doesn't go through with the deal, then it's void, not to mention Michael's going to be pretty damned pissed off if she gets to him first, got it?”

Dean approached and finally got between them. “You can't go alone!” he said, facing the archangel, “You need someone with you. They want you too badly.”

“Me,” Balthazar immediately volunteered, “Let me go.”

“No!” Gabriel barked, “No one's going with me. I'm faster on my own. Michael is the one that's close by. He's the threat right now. Find him and stop whatever shit is going on.”

Dean shuffled in place for a moment before cursing beneath his breath and running away to the armory, Sam running behind him. Castiel, unsure of what to do, ran after them until he was out of sight of his brothers. He stopped and leaned against the wall, wanting to know what was going on. There were too many things left out and a lot of tempers going around.

Balthazar didn't follow them. He only looked back to his brother again, pleading. “Gabriel-”

“I said no!” The archangel was angry and there weren't very many times Bal could say that he had seen this. Gabe approached him like he had just done earlier, but Balthazar was the one backing up this time. “I can't trust you. Or her. You both knew about this deal.”

“She rejected him!” he shot back, standing his ground now. “What did you want me to do? Tell you about what didn't happen? She wasn't going to do this! She swore to me!”

“Yet, you still seem pretty damn sure that's what's going on,” Gabriel said in a calm voice. Balthazar shut his mouth and didn't answer, which only made the other angry enough to grab him by the collar and pull him forward. “This is for you, isn't it?” Before Bal could angrily reply, he kept going. “When I find her, there's going to be a  _ very _ stern talk about the two of you. It's forbidden for a  _ reason _ .”

“Oh, you're one to talk,  _ Loki _ ,” Balthazar spat back, “You left first. Before me. Before  _ Cas _ . You stayed with them. You lived and died for them.”

It took a lot of strength to not hurt his brother, but he did growl back, “Kali wasn't human!”

“She wasn't one of us, either!” he argued back.

“ _ Stop it! _ ”Gabriel screamed, the walls shaking for half a second, “Stop comparing them! Catherine's mortal! You're not! That's it!”

“I died once already!” he shot back, “I can do it again!”

Castiel blinked and felt everything around him stop, letting the meaning of what was said sink in.

Gabriel stared up at his brother, truly shocked, but the only look he got back was firm determination. He meant it. It wasn't the words or the notion of such a thing, but it was the notion coming from  _ Balthazar  _ of all people. He truly and deeply cared and the lengths he was willing to go to for her was staggering. Which brought him back to her and the lines she probably already crossed. Realization spread through him. “Michael has your-”

“Gabriel!” Kevin ran back into the room, nearly out of breath. “The seals are broken!” After speaking, he looked between the two of them like there was about to be a fight or something.

Balthazar still held his determination as Gabe visibly calmed down. “Find Michael.  _ I'll _ get her back.” He pushed his brother off and was gone by the time Bal looked again.

* * *

Gabriel had said that he sensed Michael a few miles away, but he failed to specify how many miles were a few or the precise location as most of the area was wooded. The Winchesters and remaining angels went on foot to find him. It was apparently how Catherine had gotten around unless she had help.

They had all split up to cover a bigger area. Really, it was Balthazar's idea. Dean figured that finding Michael would be like finding a neon sign at night, but the other had his doubts. No one could really blame him for being so thorough in the situation but anger and annoyance was another factor entirely. Cas didn't feel that way, though. He understood the urgency.

Castiel couldn't see anyone, but he knew that they were all on either side of him... maybe. Balthazar was rather off put about the whole thing and seemed to be thinking illogically and spontaneously, so there was no real telling where he currently was. The reason as to why he was acting like that had been somewhat explained, though.

He didn't let on that he had overheard the heated conversation to anyone and no one seemed to be the wiser. It was all very... interesting. Balthazar was always one to easily pass over meaningful things, yet those who knew him well could see that he did care deep enough down. Cas should have realized something was going on when his brother showed up to the bunker with the human woman and stayed by her side as often as possible. At first, Castiel only thought it was his brother's way of avoiding them, but it was more than that and he should have caught on.

Balthazar falling for anyone was an interesting enough thought.

Going back to the situation at hand, though, Cas had to ultimately agree with Dean. While he respected that Balthazar wanted to look as close as possible for the archangel, he should know that Michael would be lit up like a Christmas tree. The problem about that, though, was that there were no obvious signs to be found. Could Michael be hiding? Was he even nearby in the first place?

It was at that point that Castiel thought back on what he knew of Catherine. She certainly did not seem like a fool. Balthazar wouldn't begin to care so deeply about such a stupid thing. Perhaps she had a plan when coming out here. Perhaps they couldn't immediately see Michael for a reason. There had to be so much more to it than his brother realized. He just couldn't help but wonder why she would suddenly take action like this.

A loud clap of thunder sounded in the distance, making him pause in step and look to the sky. The speckled stars shined clearly back down to him and he was certainly unaware of any storm this evening. The deep rumble continued far away, but his view of the sky was limited by the trees. It was obvious enough that something was going on, but trying to find where was tricky.

The sound of wings not much further ahead brought him back to the situation and Castiel started running, hearing the same footsteps alongside him through the trees. Once closer, he slowed to a halt at seeing Gabriel's back in front of him. The others quickly appeared in the same area and, predictably, Balthazar was the first to start screeching.

“Why in the hell are you here?” he yelled, not gaining much of a reaction, “You said-!”

Gabriel turned his head to look to him. “I lost Lucifer,” he explained before turning his attention ahead of them again, “Lost Michael, too. He's not here, anymore.”

Dean's eyes grew wide for what felt like the fifth time that day. He was tired of saying the same thing over again. “What?”

Sam stopped him before he could go into a panic. “Where are they?”

Gabe just took a deep breath and shook his head. “Far away... I think she banished them. I'm not even sure how long ago that was.”

Craning his head, Castiel looked up at the sky just in time for the thunder to sound across them again. That wasn't thunder... They were going to come back and be very angry.

He looked to his younger brother, immediately noticing the fear and trying to remember the last time Balthazar had that look. “We need to find her,” he said, voicing everyone's concern.

“I still can't see her. I don't know where she is.” Gabriel shook his head again, but interrupted before another argument broke out. “I do see something, though. I think she... might have had a plan or... something.”

Dean shifted, trying to make the angel look at them. “What plan?”

Gabe did turn his attention to the Winchesters, as if he only just remembered they were there. “Later,” he answered, “We'll be back. I'll come for you soon. Just stay hidden, got it?”

Before questions could be asked, both of the Winchesters and Castiel had vanished. Balthazar glanced around frantically. “Where are they?”

“An abandoned farmhouse in upstate New York,” he answered, “It won't be safe here when Luke and Leia come back. We should do this quick.”

Gabriel began to walk away, leaving his very confused brother behind. “Do what quick?” he asked, running to catch up.

The other just looked around him, coming up to a very small clearing in the trees. “I think Catherine took that deal.”

That only served to make Balthazar angry. “Why on Earth would you start thinking-” He stopped walking, his mouth falling open at the sight in front of him. “... -that...”

A white, bubbling mist covered the ground up to their shins like an early morning fog. Bal wasn't even sure where the mist began and ended. Gabriel only paused for a second before looking to the sky and continuing to slowly pace through the graces. Dark clouds rolled in the distance, producing faint purple, orange, and white tints of light. He was right. She had banished them both and they were coming back, very pissed off.

Gabriel's sword fell into his hand. “We need to protect these graces,” he said, not looking away from the looming clouds. “Yours is here somewhere. These were the ones Michael had taken.”

Balthazar looked to his brother, the reason why he was chosen to stay behind occurring to him and he slowly shook his head despite the other not even looking his way. He failed to form the words, though. No, he didn't want the damn thing back, but what was he going to do? Act like a two year old and start throwing a tantrum? Gabriel needed another angel's help against the two forces that wanted to destroy this world. He couldn't very well say no, but-... How was any of this fair? It was like she planned every single bit of it this way, but even she couldn't think that far ahead.

He looked back to the rolling clouds, a strong gust of wind sweeping through the area as lightning flashed across the sky, making the ground shake. They were doomed if a fight were to break out, but if he could hold them back long enough for Gabriel to collect these graces, then the tides of this entire war could turn completely.

Balthazar swallowed hard, his throat completely dry, before he looked to the ground and tried to not think about the consequences of this. To his right, a few yards away, a space opened up through the mist to reveal the grass beneath as his grace feebly tried to glide towards him. He hardly took a step closer when he saw something else starkly mingled into the grass. At first, he stopped in shock at the sight... Her hair and skin slowly became visible as his grace drifted off of her, as if it had tried to act as some sort of shield. Then the thunder brought him back and he ran over to her side.

“Catherine.” Balthazar knelt beside her and tilted her head over to look at him. It was only then that he noticed her glassy eyes were already open, staring to the sky. That small glimmer that had reminded him of her beautifully bright soul was completely absent and he belatedly realized most of her face and his hand was now covered in blood.

He stared then started blinking again and again, lightly shaking her. “Catherine?” He shifted his position, like he thought he could wake her and make this go away if he could just get through to her. His thumb glided over the skin beneath her eye. “Catherine?”

Gabriel watched the clouds roll closer and bit the inside of his cheek. “Baltha-!” He turned back around and found his brother kneeling over something on the ground. For some reason, he immediately knew what it was. He slowly started to step closer, watching Bal try to shake her awake and slowly starting to descend into a panic.

Balthazar didn't realize how fast he was breathing. Something like that wasn't even registering with him. She wasn't waking up. He wasn't ignorant or in denial, but the thought of... this... “Catherine!” Hearing the footsteps approaching, Bal quickly looked over to his brother and, before the other could do or say anything, he began to plead. “Bring her back.”

Gabriel glanced from the body up to his brother, the shock of finding her dead evident on him.

The other only repeated himself, like he didn't hear the first time. “Bring her back.”

Gabe swallowed and looked back down to the body.

“Gabriel.”

This was... unfortunate timing, to say the least. The archangel turned and looked back to the clouds, the wind getting stronger as the trees began swaying. They were very angry.

“Gabriel, please. Please.”

He turned back at the sound of Balthazar's pleas. He had never once heard his brother beg for anything, even when he was young. But time was running out and it just made this situation that much harder. Gabriel lightly shook his head and started approaching again. “You need to leave.”

Bal's face fell. “No.” His brother continued to get closer and he tried to lean away, holding Catherine as tight as he could. “No, please. Please, don't-!”

Gabriel was gone. The wind and the trees were gone. He was kneeling on a dirty concrete floor, looking at a wooden wall. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, until he looked back down again. She was gone and his hands were dark red. He just stared down at them, trying and failing to think.

Faintly, he heard footsteps and someone running over to him, kneeling down on his side and grabbing his shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” Castiel asked, trying to get a look at Balthazar's body. Sam and Dean stood mere inches behind Cas and they all came to the same conclusion at once. He wasn't hurt.

Sam looked between Bal's hands and his face. “What happened?” There was no answer.

Dean licked his lips and glanced to his brother before looking back. “Hey,” he said, trying to get the angel's attention. “Balthazar? Hey... Whose blood is that? Balthazar.”

Cas raised his hand to make Dean be quiet as he watched his brother closely. It was like he didn't even know they were there. Then, after he seemed to take the first breath he had since he arrived, tears appeared and he began to shake. Castiel tightened his grip on his brother, but didn't say anything.

He knew the things that he was willing to do for Catherine and he knew what he had planned to give up for her. Angels just simply didn't have it in their programming to get so emotional over such a simple thing as death, but Cas knew first hand how possible it was. He just held on to his brother tightly as Balthazar suddenly cradled his face in his hands then screamed.

She was gone. He told her what he had felt and she died. He told her that he loved her, that he wanted to be with her. He told her less than three hours ago. They had even been happy less than a day ago. She was gone and he was left here and everything continued on as if nothing had happened. He told her that he loved her and she left and died because of him.

He heard his name, suddenly realizing that someone was holding on to his shoulder. His fingers clawed into his hair without him even noticing that his hands had moved and a part of him thought of the blood now being on his face.

The ground began to shake violently, gaining the attention of everyone, even Balthazar. Through the slats in the wooden boards and the open windows, a golden light poured in that was too bright to even look at. Bal didn't shield his eyes like the others. He knew it was Gabriel using a significant amount of power and there was only one reason he would be drawing that much strength.

The light began to fade and the tremors slowly started to die down, but Balthazar was already standing, untangling himself from Castiel's grasp and running towards the first door he could find. He could hear his name being called from behind him again, but he found the main set of doors and rammed his body into them so hard that they immediately fell open. He ran forward a few paces before slowing to a stop, the others halting behind him.

The light completely died away and Gabriel stood there, his hand wrapped around strings that bunched into white crystals filled with each individual grace that was at the site. But he was looking down to Catherine's body that he had brought back with him. The wound on her neck and the blood was all still there. Her eyes still looked at nothing.

Castiel was actually the first to run forward. He got beside her like he was going to check for a pulse, but his hands hovered over her and he looked up to Gabriel.

The archangel looked to him and then over to Balthazar with a sad, shocked look. “I can't find her soul.”

Bal didn't look at him, but his words replayed over and over in his mind as he tried to find a meaning in them and failed. He stared down to Catherine and kept returning to that phrase over and over, thinking that if he could understand the words, then maybe he could understand why she wasn't there anymore. Everyone seemed to be watching him but nothing happened. He just stood there, staring, that phrase repeating continuously in his mind as he tried very hard to wake up.

 


	30. White Noise

“ _Don't do something stupid for something I gave up in the first place. Swear to me.”_

The match flared to life in Dean's hand before calming down to a small flame. With a deep sigh that made his chest feel like it would cave in, he passed the fire beneath a bit of kindling and flicked it into the pyre once it caught. They did this way too often.

He backed away just as the fire found the gas and quickly spread across the logs and sheet that had been gently wrapped around Catherine's body. They had searched her for weapons before hand, only finding a knife in her jacket. Asking Balthazar questions about her weapon habits or even if he knew of any friends or family she had before all of this resulted in absolutely nothing. After the outburst in the barn, he seemed to have completely turned to stone. Dean blinked and looked at the people around him. Gabriel, Cas, and Kevin watched the fire burning, but Sam looked to him and shrugged. Of course he wasn't going to show.

He glanced behind them then up to the dark purple sky, watching the smoke rise. They had been forced to wait several hours in New York, waiting for Michael and Lucifer to lose their trail. Dean had watched Gabriel hand over one of the graces he had collected to Balthazar, but he was so sure that the man would punch him that he jumped forward to stop them. Instead, Bal just stared at the archangel, took it in his hand, and looked away.

Dean took a deep breath and nodded a few times before Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder. “No,” the angel said, “I'll go find him.” The Winchester watched him turn away before looking to the others. Sam had bowed his head. Kevin seemed to be pale and horrified. Castiel, though, slowly sank down until he was sitting on the ground, watching the fire burn. After a moment, Dean sat down with him.

Gabriel glanced back to them and up to the sky, finding where the sun was rising and making a bee line in the direction. It wasn't that he didn't want Balthazar to have a moment alone or anything. It was just the way he seemed to be handling this. Gabe didn't want his brother to take a bad path because of her death, but some version of that path seemed inevitable at this point. They had offered more than once to give him a moment alone with her, but he just refused the entire thought of such a prospect. He didn't want to be anywhere near her body. He didn't even want to look at her. Again, Gabriel supposed he couldn't really blame him, but he had clung so fiercely to Catherine when he had first found her that the idea of him rejecting the contact was confusing.

Maybe it was a human thing.

His feet crunched over the leaves on purpose, hopefully telling Balthazar that he was getting nearer, yet somehow doubting that he was registering even that much at the moment. He found his brother sitting a top the ditch of the driveway, watching the first rays of the sun slowly appear. After glancing around, Gabe found exactly what he predicted and had to stop short before stepping on his brother's grace and possibly cracking the crystal.

He sighed and looked up to the other's back. “Balthazar.” There was no reply or any sign that the man had even heard him. “They started without you.” Still nothing. Gabe shifted in place, ultimately deciding that moving forward probably wasn't a good idea. “I know you don't want to, but you should be there. The others are worried about you. I'm starting to get worried about you.” The other bowed his head, but still didn't make a reply. It was better than nothing. “You should at least-”

“Shut up,” Balthazar finally spoke up, immediately silencing his brother. He sighed and shook his head before slowly getting to his feet. A silence passed that he knew needed to be filled and he remembered back to the other times he felt that something needed to be said and he kept his mouth his shut. Bal sighed again, placing his hands on his hips and watching his feet. “Why didn't you bring her back?”

Gabriel blinked and tilted his head. “I told you why,” he answered slowly, wondering if there was some sort of psychic break going on here. “I can't find her soul.”

A tension grew that was only confirmed as Balthazar slowly turned to face his brother with a hardened glare. “Really?” he asked sarcastically. “Gabriel the archangel can't see one human soul?”

“You don't believe me?” The question was a rhetorical one, but Gabriel didn't move to go on the offensive either. Not yet, at least.

But Balthazar frowned and, with his next words, Gabe thought that a fist fight might do them both good. “You wanted her gone.”

The silence that passed between them couldn't have been stabbed at if anyone even wanted to. “Excuse me?” Gabe eventually asked coolly in return.

Bal began to approach him, fuming. “Forbidden for a _reason_ ,” he quoted with a hiss, “She's mortal. _I'm_ not. It's _wrong_!”

“I didn't say it was wrong,” Gabriel told him seriously, but Balthazar surprisingly smiled and started laughing. The other closed his eyes. “I liked her-”

“Did you?” Bal nearly yelled, “Really?”

“I didn't want her dead!” he screamed, finally gaining silence from his brother after working so hard to make it go away the first time. As Bal watched him, shifting on his feet, Gabe calmed down and tried again. “I like you, too. _This_ is why it's forbidden. This is inevitable, either way. I didn't like it, because I didn't want _this_.” He motioned to the ground, like her body was still at his feet or something, but Balthazar seemed to catch the gist of it anyway.

The other stayed still for a moment, then rubbed at his eyes and turned away again. “If you can't sense her, then where is she?”

Gabriel sighed and shrugged. “She's not in Heaven... or Hell. She's not on Earth. At least, I can't see her no matter where she is-”

“The point, Gabe.” Balthazar turned back around, swiping his hand away but looking to the ground. “What's your point?”

He just sighed again. “I checked over her body. Lucifer was the one that killed her.” Bal shifted in place, but he continued like he didn't notice. “The thing is, Michael and Lucifer were both there at the time she died and they were both pretty pissed with her... She made a deal with Luci that she went back on, but she weakened Michael more than anyone else ever has before, so... it's safe to say that he did something with her soul.”

“Something?” Bal asked, looking up to his brother tiredly, but suddenly frowning at the look he was getting.

Gabriel watched him and eventually nodded. “Something. Yeah.”

Balthazar blinked at him and bit the inside of his cheek so hard that he tasted blood. “What are you implying?” he asked, “That he just went mad with rage and-... He wouldn't do that.”

The other looked away. “He's strong enough. Always has been.”

“We're supposed to _protect_ their souls!” he screamed, alarming Gabriel with the outburst, “He knows that better than anyone! He wouldn't go back on God's freaking word!”

“He's changed,” the archangel pressed. “I don't know what he'd do. He's spent time Hell, for pity's sake. You've seen what that's done to Lucifer.”

“Lucifer was always like that,” Balthazar growled. “His way or no way. He hasn't changed one bit.”

“He didn't decorate his house with people's guts! He wasn't a blood thirsty psycho that wanted _everyone_ gone. He killed _me_!” It had already been said before he could stop it from coming out and Bal had turned away before he could remark on it again. That was, apparently, a bit of a sore topic that Gabe didn't know he had.

They both kept quiet for a moment, then Balthazar shook his head and mumbled, “He wouldn't do that,” a few times while shifting in place.

Gabriel watched him and didn't say anything. If she was gone, there was nothing they could do and it would just hurt his brother that much more. If she wasn't... then he had to believe in something, didn't he? “You should take your grace back,” Gabe sighed, “If she's out there, we can find her quicker with the two of us.”

“I don't _want_ the damn thing,” Bal growled again, wheeling back on his brother again. “I don't care what she gave for it, I don't want it.”

“She _died_ for it-”

“ _No, she didn't!_ ”Again, the outburst was surprising, but Gabriel shifted his feet and watched his brother closely. He wasn't denying her death, but he was certainly having a hard time with it. Balthazar paced away a few steps, unsure if he wanted to approach or not considering how tense he was. “She swore to me. Whatever the hell happened back there, I know that she swore to me. If I have to, I'll get her back and question her myself!”

Gabe shook his head and spoke calmly. “She swore to you, because she loved you. She did what she felt had to be done, because she loved you.”

“You don't know how she felt,” he answered back angrily, “Not about me. Not about anything-”

“You think she _didn't_?” the archangel asked incredulously, “It couldn't have been more obvious that you two were jumping on the bed when you got back here. Christ, she died for-”

“ _Stop!_ ” This time, Bal approached him, getting in his space again like before. “She didn't die for me! She-...” He took a breath and stepped off a bit. “She didn't die at all. She's not gone.”

Gabriel closed his eyes. “Bal...”

“You- You are going to bring her back.” After a moment, Gabe looked back to his brother again, who continued. “Next to me and Michael, I'm blaming you. You decided to chase after Lucifer. You told me that this was forbidden. You brought her back before. She counted on _you_ when things were bad-”

“No.” Gabriel stopped him and the shock on Balthazar's face was slowly beginning to turn into anger before he continued. “I'm not going to bring her back without her soul. It won't be her, you know that. It'll be an immoral shell with a shotgun. She'd kill someone if they so much as looked at her wrong and I know you don't give a damn about that, but she would and you know it.” Bal glared to him, but stayed quiet in his anger, so Gabe sighed. “We'll find her soul. We'll bring her back the right way. It's not like we can take her to Heaven right now anyway, so...”

Balthazar started shaking his head, making Gabriel frown in confusion before he elaborated. “No, you won't,” Bal told him, “Michael lost his graces and now Lucifer's in control. He could pop at any second and you expect me to believe you're going to drop all of that for her?”

Of course. Gabe bit his lip and nodded. “There's... obviously priorities.”

“Not for me.” Balthazar watched Gabe's confused eyes for a moment, thinking over once more what he was about to say and nodded one quick time. “I'm going to find Michael. Alone. When I get her soul, you _will_ bring her back.”

The archangel's confusion quickly turned to concern. “He's not as powerful now, but-”

“Lucifer is the strong one,” Bal interrupted. “You need as much as you can against him, I understand that. I need to go alone... I won't be of any use to you right now, anyway.”

Balthazar turned and took a few steps away from his older brother, while Gabriel thought that proposition over. He was right. With the grief, Bal wouldn't be of much use if he was trying to do his own agenda at every turn. They needed to be a stronger team than that. Of course, Michael probably didn't _have_ Catherine's soul at all, but if he did something to her then... maybe he'd know what he did and where she was. If she still existed. If he did anything to her soul at all.

Gabriel bent down to the ground and rose back up with something in his hand. “If you're sure, you'll need some sort of help.”

Balthazar turned back to him and groaned when he saw the grace. “I don't want-!”

“I know.” Gabriel approached him anyway, untangling the cord before looping it over his younger brother's head. “You might need it, though. What am I supposed to do when she comes back and finds out you died because you're stubborn?” Balthazar didn't answer. Any answer that would suffice would be a sarcastic one and he didn't want to think about humor right now. Instead, he looked down to the bright little grace and brought his hand up to cradle it. After a beat, Gabe spoke again. “Since it's been with Michael and Raphael's graces, it's probably healed up some since the fall. Just break the glass in case of an emergency... Okay?”

Bal nodded and looked up to his brother again. He already knew what the next words were. He was going to say something about him making up his mind or staying here for a few days or something... Before Gabriel could get a word out, he turned and walked pass him back to the bunker.

He had to go around the corner to get to the entrance, but the first thing he noticed was the burning pyre. The fire was so engulfing that the idea of a body being in the middle of all that seemed so strange, but he knew that she was. He knew that she was in there, letting the fire boil and burn her away without any protest. Fitting, he thought bitterly and immediately felt so guilty that he could have been sick.

Balthazar watched the fire lick up to the sky for another moment before quickly turning away and going into the bunker.

* * *

Being human had been an adaptive process since this entire thing started, but it was even stranger since her death. Sometimes, Balthazar couldn't breathe – as if he were drowning – and he felt like sitting down somewhere and never getting back up again. Other times, he wanted to scream and rip the lungs out of anyone that dared to even try to speak to him. Most of the time, though, he was hardly even there. Maybe these weird developments would ease up in time. It had only been a handful of hours since they found her body. Back in New York, he noticed that the Winchesters were whispering to themselves about him, but the only word he managed to pick up was _shock_.

He knew that humans did experience shock after something big happening. He didn't think he'd ever be afflicted by such a thing given who he was, but it didn't really matter one way or the other. It just felt very strange to start thinking about one thing then blinking and being somewhere completely different doing something else.

Like now. Apparently, his absent minded self had seen fit to take a shower. It was for the best. He was still covered in blood and trying to rub the stains off with his hands had only made the others more concerned, so he had stopped trying long ago. He did not like their concerned, pitiful stares. He didn't like their reactions to any bit of this, but it wasn't like they knew her well anyway. Perhaps his reaction to an insignificant human's death had surprised them. At the moment, he couldn't care less, especially since he wouldn't have to look at them anymore soon. He wasn't big for goodbyes either, so he planned to leave as soon as he was packed... and, apparently, done with this shower.

At first, the idea of humans having to clean themselves on a regular basis was extremely annoying and, in his opinion, time consuming, but he found that the action had become better and better every time. He rested in place for a moment, allowing the scalding hot water to pass over his skin and relax the tense muscles. He half thought about curling up in the tub and falling asleep, but that had the extreme possibility of raising eyebrows despite how unrelated it was. He was just... very tired. The thought of sleep vanished as he watched himself scrub at his hand again and the water started turning red in his palm.

Next thing Balthazar knew, he was mostly dried off and looking for cleaner clothes to wear. He pulled on a new shirt and shook his head, a shiver going through his spine reminding him of the temperature. Now that he was out of shower, the world was freezing and he somehow doubted it was going to warm up anytime soon. Probably just get colder if anything. For the pass few days, the cold had hardly even bothered him, but he also had other things on his mind as well. Now, it was just another thing to focus on.

He put on several layers beneath his now worn in jacket. Thankfully, packing wasn't a big problem. He was still living out of the same bag since they had arrived at the bunker. The hard part was knowing that he only had half of the set. She had kept the medical equipment, spare ammunition, and an angel blade in her bag. He looked over to the other side of the bed, knowing that her bag was under it and working very hard to not actually think about the bed itself or the room.

After a deep breath, he slowly paced around to the other side, going down on one knee to see it. Of course, his first thought was to just leave the thing there, but her things could save his life if push came to shove. He groaned and quickly jerked her bag out and placed it on top of the bed. Then he just... stared at it. He wasn't entirely sure what all was in there or what he'd have to dig through to find what he needed. Probably a bottle of whiskey that had hardly been touched. Mostly her clothes. Maybe even old pictures or a book or something... After some thought, he decided that he couldn't go through her things. It wasn't that it was an invasion of privacy, but he found that he just... couldn't. On the other hand, he wouldn't get very far otherwise.

He reached across the bed and zipped up his own bag, grabbing them both and tossing them over his shoulder. Med kit or not, he couldn't very well leave her- her _things_ in this bunker when it was filled with people she had hardly known. Taking it with him meant that he wouldn't have to go through it unless necessary, so everyone won.

Without looking back, Balthazar slammed the door closed behind him and began his small trek to the garage. It seemed that everyone was still outside or something, so he thankfully didn't have to worry about trying to explain this to someone else. Gabriel had taken his grand idea in stride, but he probably had more than enough time by now to blab his mouth to everyone else.

“Balthazar?”

He scowled and continued walking.

“Balthazar.”

He slowed to a stop, closing his eyes. Castiel's footsteps approached from behind so, with a big sigh, he turned to face his _other_ brother but remained quiet. Cas stopped in front of him, looking at the bags over his shoulder in confusion. “You're leaving.”

It wasn't a question, so Bal didn't see it worth answering. He just waited for this lecture to be over.

But the other licked his lips and adjusted his shoulders to seem more confident than he really was before asking, “Do you need help?”

After a beat of silence, Balthazar blinked and furrowed his brow. Castiel sighed and shifted, obviously trying to reiterate what was said. “I know you don't trust me. I understand why and you more than have a right to. You tried to save me, I killed you for it, and I am sorry... I'm also sorry about... this.” His brother still didn't answer. It seemed that his face was permanently holding that look of bafflement. “Gabriel told me what you're doing and I-... If I can help at all, I want to. I liked her a great deal and if helping to find her makes you normal again, then I want to do what I can. I can't fix what I've done, but I... you know... want to do something...” He paused and still only got a stare in return. “Balthazar, I'm trying to say that I'm sor-”

He was interrupted by a sudden, tight hug from his brother. The act was quite surprising and he still wasn't speaking, so Cas just awkwardly returned the hug as best he could.

After a moment or so, Bal pulled away and took a deep breath before finally speaking. “You need to be here.”

Castiel frowned worriedly. “You truly plan to go after Michael on your own?”

“I have to,” he said, keeping one hand on his brother's shoulder. “Lucifer's too strong. I shouldn't be leaving at all because of him, but... I can't just... stay here.”

“I know.” Bal frowned, so Cas shrugged. “It's humanity. They... change us. I-...” He sighed and shook his head, deciding to change topics. “If you need anything, absolutely anything, you'll call?” Balthazar nodded and his brother continued. “If things get really bad, Gabriel can still hear prayers. I don't know if he'll take on any of the graces he's gotten, but if he at least takes Raphael's, his wings should heal. He can be there in a second-”

“I'll be fine,” Balthazar interrupted. Castiel stared at him and bit his lip with a small nod. After a second, Bal squeezed his brother's shoulder. “Thank you... I'll call. I promise.”

Cas nodded again, but quickly spoke up. “You-... I'm not trying to stop you, but you could wait until tomorrow. You're tired. You have to be.”

Slowly, Bal shook his head. “I can't wait,” he eventually answered. “I couldn't even sleep if I tried. I need to-... I can't stay.”

His brother bowed his head for a moment, then looked back up with a sharp, understanding nod. They just watched each other for a moment before Balthazar finally said, “Bye, Cassie.” Then he let go of the other's shoulder and walked away. Cas didn't call him back again.

He honestly didn't put much thought into it when he immediately went for the Challenger, throwing the bags into the back and taking the driver's seat like he had on a few occasions. It was her car, so she was the one that mostly drove, but it didn't feel weird or anything at least.

The car pulled out of the garage and onto the driveway. He didn't much care if those other nitwits noticed him leaving or what they thought about it. Again, he wasn't much for farewells with that lot.

It wasn't until he was at the end of the drive that he glanced over to the passenger seat and that sudden feeling of drowning took over again. His hand slid down the steering wheel and his grace felt heavy beneath his shirts. Balthazar had the sudden thought of turning around and going back to Gabriel, accepting his good for nothing grace back, and helping to finish what she obviously had aimed to do. It was what she really wanted. It was why she made such a heavy sacrifice. The survival of him and the rest of the world all in one swoop.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but Balthazar eventually took a deep breath and pulled on to the black top. Screw what she wanted. She would just have to bitch at him later.

 


	31. Let Me Off

Impermanence. That was the problem with humans and Balthazar's entire... whatever that had been. Fling? No, he hated that word for what they had. He had begun to eagerly want to believe that whatever he felt for Catherine was, as she had put it, the humanity he was still trying to work out. At the same time, he knew better. He enjoyed the finer things in life and having so much power over the old mud monkeys, true, but there was a tenderness there that had gone ignored for too long and it seemed to come out best when she was there.

That should be just one more reason to keep her in the ground. Why not take his grace back and vanish? Go back to enjoying the night life, women, booze, drugs, and whatever else this damn place still had to offer before it all went up in smoke. The problem with that was the last part. He wouldn't just be living it up until the end. He would be waiting for it. Looking _forward_ to it. An ending. A reprieve. Something to finally stop this cycle of suffering... He didn't want to die. He never had. He just wanted it to _stop_.

He would be wanting that ending more and more for every second she was gone and he knew it. A grief like this for a being like him was hard to handle. This wasn't about her. This was about survival now. Or so he liked to tell himself.

Balthazar winced, accidentally getting distracted in his thoughts and managing to cut a bit too deep that time. Perhaps he should have scraped up some money and just had this tattooed on instead, but he doubted he had that much cash when stupid things like food was a priority. Apparently, boarding was, too. After driving through the entire day and getting as far as he could from the bunker without falling asleep at the wheel, Balthazar decided to take a cheap motel room for the night rather than sleep in the damn car. He hated the look of it; the  _smell_ . He hated it.

He had left that motel to get even further away, though, but after a dreamless, restless sleep and some food he forced himself to eat, Bal had decided that this needed to get under way. A pen's marks were too temporary for the things he had in mind. The jacket was off, his sleeves rolled up, and he was sitting sideways in the passenger seat, feet firmly resting on the ground of some abandoned recreation center off the interstate that he probably wasn't even supposed to be on.

His bare arm glittered with red from the sigils carved from the bicep down to the top edge of his wrist. They had begun to sting like hell and he half wondered if his arm was now a liability in a fight, but he needed these anti-detection sigils. He refused to put them on his damn stomach like some half-crazed moron, so he just started on the next best option without putting any more thought into the matter. Still, he would have to wrap these later, but perhaps he should burn them to make sure they scared or something. How did human bodies even work again?

He winced another time, pulling the knife away before he accidentally cut himself open and ruined the whole damn thing. After a deep breath and some grumbled words, he continued on to finish the last few markings and finally took a relieved sigh. Due to his want for accuracy, he had been at this for a few hours. Now he just had to wait a couple of minutes to make sure it worked or not.

He rolled his shoulder and stretched his neck from having been sitting so stiff and tense for so long. After fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt and making sure it wasn't going to roll down on to his new wounds, he allowed himself a moment to breathe and look up to the clouds. The only good thing he had run across so far was the weather. It had been nice, not rainy or dreary at all, but the wind still sometimes felt like ice on his skin despite the fact that he knew things were beginning to warm up. He just couldn't seem to shake the cold anymore, no matter how many layers he put on. To think that he had believed that he was finally getting used to it. There were a few times when he didn't even register the temperature before, but he found that he had been thinking about it more and more. It was an easy thing to think about.

He shivered from a gust of wind, the hair rising on his arm and making the stinging pain worse for a moment. Balthazar stayed still, just watching his arm... before picking his head up again. His phone was vibrating with a buzz behind him.

Bal reached around to the driver's seat with his good arm to pick it up and didn't even bother to check the number before answering. “That took long enough. I could have been dying.”

“ _You're obviously not_ ,” Gabriel replied on the other end, “ _Wanna fill me in on what you're doing over there, skippy?_ ”

He rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Anti-detection sigils. I'm hunting an archangel. Remember?”

“ _Yeah, sure, but I highly doubt you found him in last thirty-six hours._ ”

“Why am I explaining myself to you?” Balthazar asked himself more than his brother while reaching around for bandaging. He had found some spare medical equipment in the glove box which he was very thankful for. If there wasn't enough to cover the wounds on his arm, then he had resolved to tough it out and leave what was in her bag for emergencies only... Again, that's what he told himself. “If you must know,” he continued, “and I'm only explaining so that you don't fly your Looney Tuned arse over here – Michael is bound to still have supporters somewhere in the wind. I thought I'd interrogate a few of them.”

There was a silence on the other line for a moment until the voice spoke up again. “ _... I'm impressed._ ”

Balthazar just focused on wrapping his arm with one hand. “Impressed that I actually have a plan?”

“ _No, no_ ,” Gabriel said, “ _Impressed that you know what the Looney Tunes are. You're not as dull as I thought_.” Bal had to stop what he was doing to roll his eyes again, but his brother continued. “ _Besides, I have a feeling that getting the jump on the bad guys is only half of your reasons._ ”

He grumbled and continued on the wrappings, trying to bind it tight. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“ _You're running away from your big brother and his band of whackjob misfits_ ,” the other explained, “ _Not sure how cutting your losses is gonna help, but, hey, more power to ya._ ”

“I'm not running,” Balthazar mumbled, trying to concentrate on what he was doing and not the conversation. “I'd just prefer to do this on my own without you watching my every move. I knew you would call, Gabriel... Why would I be running, anyway?”

“ _Oh, I don't know_ ,” the archangel began in a sarcastic tone, “ _Maybe because we're all rightfully worried about your mental state right now. Not to-_ ”

“My mental state is _fine_ ,” Balthazar growled, interrupting his brother, “Thank you.”

“ _... Not to_ mention,” Gabriel continued, “ _You ran off on your own with absolutely no backup and you want to make sure it stays that way. You don't want to help us, and you definitely don't want us helping you_.”

He tightened the bandages, happy that they only just managed to cover his whole arm, before sighing. “I'm sorry. When did you get your bloody psychiatric license? I _am_ helping, just in a roundabout sort of way.”

“ _Roundabout..._ ,” Gabriel mumbled to himself on the other end, and Bal could tell that his brother was slowly getting angry. “ _All right. You want psychology? Fine. You're going too damn far with this._ ”

“Too far?” Balthazar squared his shoulders, but only fell back into the seat. “I thought God told us to protect souls. Not let prideful morons destroy them or hold them for collateral or whatever the hell is going on here. Excuse me if I actually try to go back to the old ways for once.”

“ _But you're not!_ ” the archangel yelled into the phone. “ _Yes, we protect souls. We don't go all commando for them with no back up while the whole damn world is about to end! Balthazar, just-!_ ” Gabriel took a deep breath on the other end, and his brother opted to wait for him to continue this time. Surprisingly, Gabe's voice had gotten softer. “ _Look, just... Real talk. You love her. We get it. Rules be damned, you love her, but you can't do things like this. You can't forget what you are and what she is. She's human. That's it... We don't even know what Michael did to her. If you're like this with the possibility of her soul still being intact, then I'd hate to see you if we found out that she-_ ”

Balthazar hung up and threw the phone in the back seat. With a sigh, he stood out of the car to stretch then started to put his jacket back on. Miraculously, the phone didn't ring again.

* * *

This was beneath him.

Malachi waited in a dark alley as if he were some street thug of a human. Apparently, he looked the part, but that didn't mean he liked the idea any better. Still, he just shifted in place and waited.

Serving Michael had been all well and good – so long as he proved to be clever and useful enough to not have his grace taken – until the archangel had all of his power stripped from him by some human woman. Not only did it leave all of his followers completely vulnerable to both Michael and Lucifer, but it was just shameful. Following _the_ Michael as one of his closest advisers just for something that embarrassing to happen?

No. He did not want that on his record. Waiting in the dark for one of the few fallen still left alive was worth it, despite his brother's pathetic reasons.

Malachi had heard through the proverbial grape vine – perhaps the rumor was meant to be stirred through their numbers – that a fallen angel who wasn't Lucifer was looking for Michael's head. He had also heard – and this rumor was probably not supposed to be known at all – that the angel wanted revenge over the death of the same human who had weakened the archangel in the first place. Angels attaching themselves to humans was not only stupid but disgusting. He hated them as much as any other angel, but, unlike Satan, was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

If anything could be proven at this point, it was that Michael certainly wasn't the end all be all, so to speak. He was fragile, far too weak, and underestimated their enemies way too much to lead any angel now. If Malachi was going to be in this war, then he was going to be on the winning side.

At the sound of footsteps behind him, the angel curiously turned around and tilted his head to the visitor. “I couldn't sense you,” he said, almost surprised to the other had thought ahead, “Balthazar.”

Bal tilted his head, too, with a little smirk that didn't reach his eyes. “Malachi,” he greeted, “It's been a very long time. Still trying to reach pass the clouds, I see.”

The other chuckled humorlessly. “Better than taking something valuable and jumping ship.”

“I took _everything_ that was valuable,” Balthazar answered with a better smile that time. “You're just jealous, because you didn't think of it first.”

“I want the power, brother,” the other answered. “I want to lead. I'm made for it. Making a real mark on our legacy.”

Bal laughed. “What's the point of power if you can't have a little fun?” he asked, “If you ask me, it's too much paperwork.”

Malachi smiled as well. “You never change,” he said, then slowly furrowed his brow and looked at his brother closely. “Or do you?” Balthazar kept the same smirk, so after a beat of silence, the other decided to get to the point. “Michael is weak, but he's taking the graces of others at his leisure. Those that followed him before are basically begging him to take theirs, so he's gaining strength even as we speak. Even those considered his most loyal are up for the picking at any moment, which includes me.”

Bal could have laughed again. “What better reason to jump ship.”

The other ignored him. “Including myself, only Tyrus, Thaddeus, and Bartholomew can get anywhere close to him, but considering all of their usefulness, I'd say Bart is the only one he won't bite. The guy is Raphael made over in the ass kissing department.” He turned to look at the other end of the alley and pointed north. “Some of Tyrus' men are in Pocatello right now. They'll stay for a few days before moving on.” He faced Balthazar again. “Right now, I can't tell you more, brother. Bartholomew tells me nothing and Thaddeus is usually out scouting for more graces across the globe. Mikael moves between our nests at his leisure and he won't go anywhere unless he wants to. Calling him out, even from me, doesn't work. He calls the meetings.”

Balthazar glanced north and back Malachi. “I'm surprised he has a network like this at all.”

The other snorted. “The true difference between Michael and Lucifer is that one stands for order and the other for chaos. Maybe he does have a network of supporters, but we're all just lambs for the slaughter in the end.”

Bal nodded, understanding completely. It was the reason he gained contact from them in the first place. “You know I have to ask,” he began, “Does anyone know that we were meeting tonight?”

“No,” Malachi answered sincerely, “but I have my own faction of loyal angels at my call. Even those outside of my flock are questioning our position. Lucifer isn't the right choice, but it's beginning to be painfully clear that Michael isn't either... I can gain you more information and an army on the inside. I know that the archangel Gabriel is on your team and, despite his own misgivings, he is still powerful. We can destroy Heaven's champion.”

Balthazar watched him for a moment in consideration, then nodded. “Smart,” he said, “but many are very loyal.”

“Like you were?” Malachi asked without hesitation and Bal smiled while he continued. “I don't care what your reasons are, brother. I just want this war to end with the proper ruler in place.

“Yeah,” Balthazar sighed and shook his head, “I don't really care about that. Thank you for the information, though. Excuse me.” Malachi frowned in confusion, but the other stepped closer and quickly stabbed the angel through with a blade before he knew what was happening. “You're a business man,” Bal told him as his brother choked for breath, “You understand.” With a twist of his wrist, Malachi screamed and burst into light that made his attacker have to look away. Finally, the light died and his vessel's body fell to the ground.

Balthazar glanced to him, then up and down the alley before walking back the way he came, hiding the still bloody blade back into his jacket.

* * *

He hadn't eaten since that morning and he really didn't care, but Balthazar had gotten some sort of thing that smelled good at the same store he picked up a map from. After trifling through the car, he found that the crazy woman must have just had a six sense for direction or something... or a map was in one of the many places that he didn't actually check, but it wasn't in the glove box or the console, so he gave up early on.

Also, as an aside, the entire concept of monetary transactions was annoying and proved just how sinful humanity was. Which lead him to often contemplate stealing what he needed, but that would just add an entirely new spin on his already headache of a life.

Balthazar unlocked the door and entered into his new, slightly used, motel room for the evening and threw his things into a chair without much of a second thought, quickly locking the door back. After turning the light on, he opened the paper bag and was about to pull out a map when his eyes landed on the food. The young man behind the counter had explained, in a very confused stare, that it was something called a corn dog before asking if they had those in Europe. Then they were both confused, and Bal just took it and left as quickly as possible. Whatever it was, it was edible in some sense of the word.

It wasn't really why he paused, though. Before, he never seemed to eat alone as something was usually distracting him from his new human needs. She always had to put something in front of him, glare, and snarl the word, “Eat,” as if there were consequences if he didn't.

Blinking back into the present, Balthazar quickly took out the map and food, sticking the latter in his mouth as he unfolded a giant picture of Idaho. He was half way through the corn dog and had decided to sit down for this job before finally finding the fabled town of Pocatello. Just as Malachi had said, it was north. Now he just had to get there and find out if it was a trap or not.

Bal finished off his food and threw the map down, not even thinking about trying to fold that damn thing up again. He sighed and considered a quick shower before looking at the room. This time, unlike the night before, he had gotten a room with a single bed. Last night, he had been so angry with himself and his tired mind for requesting two beds, that he nearly went into a fit with no one around to hear. Instead he had just thrown his grace across the room and laid down in the bed closest, trying very hard to ignore that the other was there at all.

For some reason, he felt even more tired tonight despite not being awake for two days straight. Balthazar scrubbed at his face, before rising and turning the light off, opting to just go to bed and put his mind at rest before he thought of something else that was stupid. He kicked his boots off, reluctantly peeling away the jacket again to reveal his bandaged arm, and pulled out the angel blade and a hand gun he found in the car's trunk. The gun he placed on the bed side table, but he held on to the blade as he laid down, hiding it under his pillow.

After shifting to get more comfortable, something poked painfully into his chest, and Balthazar quickly leaned up to see what it was. Patting his shirt down revealed it to be his damn grace and he groaned. A moment passed of him just leaning up in bed, before he finally pulled the grace out from underneath his shirt and laid back down. He could see the mist swirling around inside of the crystal, but that was all he could see with his human eyes. The light, though, was bright enough to shine a soft glow across the room. He watched his grace drift lazily, sometimes casting a rainbow of lights or shadows against the wall, until he eventually fell asleep.

 


	32. Eye of the Storm

_Balthazar opened the door to the motel room, arms full with bags until he dropped them on the table and closed the door back with the heel of his foot. “I'm back,” he announced, glancing around the room, “I got your stupid, mortal food. Where are you?”_

“ _I'm here,” a voice answered from the bed as a slender arm waved to him. “I'm right here.”_

_He smiled, walking over to the bed to find that she was cleaning one of their guns. “Catherine,” Bal chuckled, leaning down to lightly place a kiss on her forehead, “You should stop thinking about that nonsense for at least two minutes.”_

“ _Balthazar,” she answered in turn as if she was going to chastise him about something, too, but instead just grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him down for a kiss._

_He smiled into the kiss and braced his arms on either side of her to keep from falling. Finally, he broke free enough for his lips to move along her jawline. “You're always telling me to eat, so I would rather like to enjoy the payback while I have it, love.” He felt her cheeks bloom into a smile. “Eat before it gets cold.”_

_With that, he pulled completely away from her to walk back when he felt her hand brush against his arm. “Bal.”_

_He turned back to see an empty bed._

Balthazar's eyes opened to darkness and he took a moment to stare at the ceiling before shifting to look at the clock. Three A.M. Not a very good record. Then again, to his credit, that was the first time he had dreamed of her since... all of that.

He heaved a sigh and thought about how tired he should be. The last day and a half had consisted of a lot of driving to get to the nest before the angels left. He had several questions for Tyrus, of course, but he wasn't really going over there for detective work. Yet, three in the morning and he wasn't tired at all. He knew he needed his strength, despite how little he ate recently, but the thought of closing his eyes again was just sickening.

Bal looked up to the ceiling again and groaned before dragging himself off of the bed for a shower. Maybe he could grab a decent breakfast and ready himself more properly. Yes, waking up this early was a good thing. Sure.

After taking his shirt off, he thought hard about what to do with his grace, as he usually did every time he saw the thing. Take it off or leave it on? Or throw it as far as he could and run away very fast? He slapped his shirt on to the bed and walked into the bathroom, once again opting to leave it on... for the time being.

* * *

After a little searching around, Balthazar didn't take long in finding the angel's latest hideout. It didn't seem like they were really trying to hide, to be completely honest, probably due to the fact that they still needed vessels. He wasn't sure if the angels would recognize his own vessel, but he wasn't exactly going to test that.

All he had was his own angel blade. The one Catherine had was probably stuffed down in her bag somewhere, but he only ever fought with one blade during the wars and he was still counted as one of their best fighters. His grace might have been gone, but the thought of this being a big challenge was hardly even occurring to him. He had idly thought of bringing a gun, but it wasn't like that was going to do any good.

Night fell and, with another groan, Balthazar got out of the car and closed the creaky door behind him. They wouldn't be able to sense him coming, so he had opted to leave the car about a mile or so away from their nest. It had enough dents and scratches in it anyway.

About twenty minutes later of walking and forcing his mind to stay as clear as possible, Bal finally came up on their little hideout. It wasn't really what he had thought it would be. He expected a large warehouse or maybe a multistory structure, but no... This was a gas station. Apparently, Tyrus wasn't here with his whole flock. Balthazar grimaced, but decided that this was probably better. It would be fewer of them and it would be easier to find their leader, assuming he was actually there. If not, well, he'd see him eventually.

Rolling his shoulders and letting out a held breath, Balthazar stepped forward and walked in through the front entrance, a little bell going off over head to announce his presence.

The clerk behind the register only glanced up to him before bringing his attention back down to the newspaper. However, when Bal bypassed the shelves and went straight for the counter, the other man finally looked up to him again. “Can I help you?” he asked, one hand going under the countertop fluidly.

“I certainly hope so,” Bal answered with a little smile, thankful that he wasn't recognized but wary on whether or not this was one of his brothers. “I came to-... Oh, what do they call it? See a man about a horse?”

The clerk – an older, more built man – just smirked to him. “We don't carry that sort of stuff, mister.”

“You misunderstand,” Balthazar chuckled, “I'm not here to help myself. I'm here to help you, so to speak.” The other's smile fell away and Bal continued. “I've heard of strange things in the wind around here and I don't really have anywhere else to go. I was hoping that, maybe, those insane rumors might be true.”

After a beat of silence, the clerk smiled warmly and slowly nodded. “They are, brother. There's always room in the Lord's flock.”

Balthazar smiled back to him. “Thank you,” he said with a nod and quickly thrust his arm forward to stab his blade through the angel's chest. There was a short scream and a light show, but the angel died quickly enough. Bal watched the body fall to the floor. There was probably going to video footage of him stabbing some guy in a store, but he was fairly sure the police would be more concerned with whether or not he killed a human being.

He stood his ground for a moment, waiting to see if anyone was going to run at him from somewhere. Once no one appeared after a brief pause, he vaulted himself over the counter to get to the staff door easier.

This was probably the first time that he wished he had his grace back, despite the damn thing still hanging around his neck. He had no idea how many angels there were in that back room, but there had to be at least two, surely. Bal was confident that he could take on many of them at once, but he was pretty sure that it was less confidence in his skill and more in the fact that he hardly even cared anymore. Whether or not Tyrus was there would change things. Being in his current state, he would have to make sure of who he did and didn't kill.

He let out a held breath and calmly opened the door, not bothering to hide or ready himself. On the other side, there weren't two angels but five. Three of them looked at him a bit curiously, but happy enough to see a willing vessel all the same. Two of them grew concerned looks and he knew that those were the ones who recognized him.

One tilted his head and stood up from the crate he had been sitting on. “So, they are coming back to life?” he muttered to himself before addressing him. “Balthazar... Where's Nakir?”

That one was Tyrus. Perfect. However, Balthazar frowned and glanced back to the body. “Nakir? Oh, that's a pity. I kind of liked him.”

The others stood and drew their swords, but their leader raised his hand to stop them. “What do you think you're doing?”

Bal looked back to him. “What does it look like?” He took a step forward into the room, closing the door behind him. “You've heard the rumors, I'm sure. Malachi did.”

Tyrus snorted with a nod. “You were the one who killed him.”

“You can send me a thank you card later,” he smirked back.

“We'll thank you now,” Tyrus answered back before ordering the others. “Kill him.”

Two of the angels jumped forward at once on command. Balthazar dodged one blade, implanting his own in one of their abdomens and throwing the body into the other soldier. He quickly stabbed him where the collar met the neck and another one burst into light. He ducked in time for one of their blades to slash over head and he stabbed them through the ribcage without even turning around. The last angel ran towards him – some woman – but Balthazar grabbed her wrist and twisted her around to face the front wall before pushing her away.

Before she could turn back around, he darted for Tyrus. The faction's leader raised his blade quickly, but Bal parried the sword away and stabbed the angel through the throat, blood spewing forth as the angel burned away. Once Tyrus fell, Balthazar turned around to face the final angel, blade still raised.

She stood against the wall, sword drawn and at the ready, obviously looking for an opening to attack. Bal took a few deep breaths before smirking and shaking his head. “Someone should run and tell the monkey suits, don't you think?” She frowned and he took a step forward. “Tell them I did this. Balthazar killed Tyrus and Malachi and he's going to kill more. You'll be the only one I let free, you understand? There'll be no more survivors... Send Michael my regards.” She stood there longer and he nodded to the door, “You can go.”

The angel glanced between him and the door several times, before she slowly walked closer to open it. She backed away into the store front before running. He slowly lowered his blade and looked down to his hands. Blood stained, again. At least the fresh blood felt warm on his permanently cold hands...

Deciding that it was entirely possible that she was going to get a posse together to track and kill him, Balthazar figured that he should leave quickly as well.

* * *

It was well into the next day and Balthazar was still driving down the road. The clouds had gathered to make the day a dreary one and the radio had warned of a storm that night that he did not want to drive through. Not to mention that he was still tired from the night before. The fight had worn him out a bit, showing that human bodies do actually tend to get out of shape. It probably had to do more with the lack of food and sleep than anything else. Doing this wrong was stupid and the last thing he needed to be right now was stupid. He just gave Michael a heads up. They would be looking for anything from him at this point, not that they were overly concerned about an emotional human just yet.

The rain had only started to drizzle down when he decided to take the first exit he came by, figuring there had to be some sort of inn or something if the heavily decorated sign was any indication. Instead he found a glorified truck stop. After a very heavy and weary sigh, Balthazar went inside for directions to the nearest motel and as much food as he could carry. Maybe he couldn't stay in one place for long now, but he could definitely take a power nap if need be. Unfortunately, after cleaning out as much warm food he could stomach, he learned that the nearest rest stop was a few more miles down the interstate. Lovely.

Instead, he drove for a while longer and found another recreation site that had been left abandoned due to rain. He parked and sighed for the billionth time that day, hoping beyond hope that the worst of the storm didn't last long. If he were more awake, maybe he'd feel better about driving through the bloody thing.

Something began to buzz softly from the backseat of the car and it took him a moment to realize that it was his phone. Oh, right. That damn thing still existed. Balthazar twisted around in his seat and dug around, finally finding it on the floorboard, vibrating away. The caller ID said _Dean_ , but he had a feeling it was someone else.

After a moment, Bal picked the phone up and answered the call. “Hello?”

“ _Hello, Balthazar.”_ Castiel's voice on the other end sounded very relieved. “ _You promised to call._ ”

“I know,” Bal sighed, “I'm sorry. There's been... quite a lot going on. Have you tried calling before?”

“ _Twice_ ,” his brother answered quickly, “ _But Gabriel told me that you probably wouldn't answer after, what was apparently, a sour conversation between the two of you._ ”

“Story of my life,” he mumbled, reaching over to see what food he had to eat, “And I am sorry. I may have thrown the phone in the backseat and forgot about it.”

Cas seemed to chuckle on the other end. _“It's fine. How are you?_ ”

“Starving, I think. Still trying to figure out the human body,” he answered, pulling out what looked like a burger. Bal grimaced at the smell and put it back to find something else. These _chicken strip_ things looked okay. “Other than that, fine. Unhurt aside from anti-detection sigils, but they're not that bad. What about you? Stealing phones, I see.”

He could hear his brother's confused pout through the phone. “ _I promised Dean to return his phone in a timely manner. I have not yet resorted to thievery._ ”

Yet. Balthazar talked through his food while finally killing the car. “That's good, but it's not what I asked.”

“ _I am fine_ ,” Castiel answered, “ _I haven't left again since you did. Gabriel seems to think we are beginning to gain on Lucifer, but I'm not so sure._ ”

“Why not?”

“ _Lack of evidence to support such a theory,_ ” the other sighed, “ _but I do believe that we are close. What of Michael?_ ”

Balthazar shrugged despite his lack of an audience. “Nothing to report, really. I've gotten more information and he knows that I'm looking for him, but that's about it. I don't know where he is right now. I'm only tracking his followers.”

“ _That's a lot_ ,” Castiel said with something else hanging in his voice.

Fortunately, Bal caught it. “Perhaps, but I'm handling things one at a time... They need you there, Cas.”

There was a silent moment on the other end. “ _I know_ ,” his brother finally answered, “ _but you shouldn't be alone either._ ”

“I beg to differ,” he commented, apparently also ending that bit of the conversation.

Another silence pulled between them until Castiel spoke again. “ _There's one more thing._ ” Balthazar hummed in between bites of his food for his brother to continue. “ _Gabriel has taken Raphael's grace._ ”

Ah. That slowed his chewing. Bal quickly swallowed. “The others?”

“ _No,_ ” Cas answered. “ _Just Raphael's, but the others are still in his possession... Well, ours. They're being kept safe in the bunker for now._ ”

Balthazar nodded. “And his wings?”

“ _They're back_ ,” he seemed to answer proudly, “ _Gabriel's back. Sam and Dean have been giving him quite a wide berth lately._ ”

“Can't really blame them,” he muttered to himself, but also realized that while the archangel was the most powerful creature alive now, he was also the most wanted. “In that case, you definitely need to be there, then... I probably should.”

“ _Only if you want to_ ,” Cas answered surprisingly, “ _but despite the reasoning, I do think that someone needs to be out scouting Michael's movements and you were always a good scout._ ”

Balthazar couldn't help the very sincere smile spread across his face. “Thank you, Cassie.”

Thunder cracked overhead and Bal finally looked to the outside world, only seeing the hard rain hitting against the windshield and hood. “I have a feeling I'm going to lose the signal soon,” he said into the phone.

“ _I thought I heard thunder_ ,” Castiel answered back, “ _It's so strange that the marvels of men are so outstanding, yet nature still puts them in their place at every turn._ ”

“If you told me that a few years ago, I would have patted you on the back,” Bal replied before sighing. “I'm going to go, Cas. I'll try to call next time.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” the other answered with something warm in his voice before the line went dead.

Balthazar sighed and looked to the phone, throwing it in the seat beside him before glancing at the food. He had eaten some while on the phone, but not a lot and his appetite was surely not there for it yet. Instead, he just put all the food back, packing the rest down on the floorboard before looking up at the rain.

He was very tired. Waking up at three in the morning the day before had done him no favors, but sleeping in the car was, once again, a thought he greatly despised. It smelled just like her and he hated it. He hated being in it at all when he thought about it, but when he wasn't thinking about it, driving seemed to be the only thing to keep him grounded and focused.

Bal watched the water fall and listened to the wind howl a bit before deciding that a nap probably wouldn't kill him, despite the locale. He looked to the steering wheel for hardly a second, before twisting around again to see the backseat. The bags were on the floor and the seat itself was clear. It was better than the driver's seat, that was for sure.

Instead of getting out and getting the interior wet, he shuffled and twisted around until he found himself finally falling into the back seat. After taking his jacket off to use as a pillow, he laid down, feet resting off the side to protect her stupid seats. The grace beneath his shirt shifted as he did to get more comfortable. As he immediately started to drift off, he hoped to hell and back that he wouldn't dream of her again.


	33. Memory's Ghost

_The storm outside was hardly even a problem on his mind, much like everything else that was outside of these old walls. Michael gaining the upper hand, Lucifer plotting some sort of trickery, Gabriel trying and failing to lead the worst army anyone's ever seen, and the apocalypse on nigh. To hell with all of it. He had never cared before. Who said that losing his wings meant that he should start to care now? He was good at what he did when Father gave the orders, but without God...?_

_He was selfish. He cared very little for the majority of his family. He cared even less for the masses of Dad's other little creations. Balthazar cared only for himself. It was how things were and it was how he liked it._

_Then this human woman crawled inside of his comfortable space and attempted to upturn all of that. It was a failed attempt, all things considered. He was still selfish, just in a slightly different way. All he cared for was himself, but the loss of her would ultimately cause pain._

_He did not like to admit that he cared for the mortal little thing, but he did. His own survival now hindered on her well-being and happiness. One would think that would be considered a troublesome problem, but he begged to differ. He wanted to be kind to her. He wanted to help and protect her. He wanted to lay down his life for hers and be her winged champion. He also wanted to make her feel very... very good and he wanted her to make him feel very good and he wanted absolutely no one else to make her feel the way that he could make her feel. He wanted her smiles and affections just for himself. He wanted to keep her like this forever, away from everything else. Let the damn world burn. She was his._

_Finally his._

_The floor was uncomfortable against her back – even he knew that much – so Balthazar planned to go through pains to make sure she was well and completely distracted from the fact. Then there was her hurt shoulder... All things considered, tonight wasn't really all that good of a night for this if logic was on anyone's side, but that didn't matter. She seemed more than compliant with the setting and he was already going slow enough from trying to savor every moment of this to even dream of hurting her further. So far, that is. He had to remember to be gentle._

_He kissed around her neck, gently tracing the veins with his lips until meeting her ear. Then he took a moment to lightly nuzzle against her jaw which was something he didn't think he'd do to any sort of being, but he couldn't really help it. He wanted to be so much closer than this – a drawback of losing his grace. He wanted to see her soul again so badly, especially now. He remembered how bright it was._

_Her breath was haggard against his ear and he was getting to the point that he desperately wanted to hear her moan, when a hand brushed lightly against his face. It was the arm she had wounded and he remembered how little she could use it earlier. Still, it didn't stop him from obeying its soft push and bend away from her neck to see her face and look her in the eyes for a moment. The light in her eyes was so dull, but it was there – her soul shimmering just as beautifully as he remembered – and she smiled to him. Maybe it was the look on his face, maybe it was the moment, but it was the best smile that he had seen on her yet and he couldn't help but to lean in and kiss her soft lips._

_She returned the kiss for a lingering moment until they both broke away to look at each other again. Her warm smile had only seemed to grow. “Bal.”_

_He didn't respond. He didn't have to. He felt a smile growing across his own face, too, and he wondered how long that had been there. She must have liked it on him._

_Her hands traveled over his ribs, gently gliding over his chest and neck, before settling on either side of his face. Her smile didn't waver, but her eyes softened a margin as she looked up to him before quietly whispering. “I'm here.” He blinked down at her, the words confusing him, but her smile only widened at his confusion. “I'm right here,” she told him softly, one hand lightly brushing against his cheek and hair._

_He still didn't understand what she meant, but something in him must have felt like he did. His heart swelled, his throat choked, and he started realizing how deeply her words had moved him when his eyes began to sting, despite how much he didn't really understand the meaning. But she was right. He could feel her hand on his cheek and see her soul in her eyes._

“ _I'm here,” she whispered again, the words hardly a murmur while her thumb gently traced the skin beneath his eye like he had just done to her a few moments ago._

_He had to gasp for a shaken breath as he looked down on her. She was really here. “Catherine.” After hardly mumbling her name, he desperately took her lips in his. Then he quickly pulled away and moved to her neck, pushing his head against hers like he had earlier, trying to bury himself into her collar. A kiss wasn't enough. Sex wasn't going to be enough. He wanted to hold her and never be forced to let her go again. “I love you,” he said beside himself, hand tangling into her hair and feeling like he may choke on a sob. “I love you. I love you.”_

_He could feel her hand combing across the back of his head, trying to quiet him. She still spoke softly to his ear. “I'm here, Bal. I'm here.”_

_He kissed her shoulder twice- three times, before nuzzling into her neck again, wanting to find her lips._

Balthazar tilted his head in his sleep, slowly beginning to wake when he felt nothing that he expected to feel. His eyes opened to see the interior of the Challenger, the windows still pelted with water, but any traces of the storm that caused it seemingly gone as dusk set in. Sleep still clinging to him, Bal glanced behind him to realize that his back was pressed against the seat. He turned forward to check the front, finding that no one was sitting there and his mind tried to figure out where she might have wandered off to.

He stopped moving, realization slowly sinking through him like ice. His breath hung in his chest for a moment as he stared straight ahead, his mind stalling. Then he realized that he _couldn't_ breathe.

He shot up and quickly climbed to the nearest door, about ready to kick the damn thing before it opened. His feet planted against the ground, but he couldn't find the strength to stand and move, so he stayed there for a moment, cradling his head in his hands and forcing himself to breathe as best he could.

She was _not_ here and he hated the fact that those dreams persisted. Why did he dream that? Why her again? Why? Well, any moron would tell him why and he knew it, but why did it have to be... _that_? Why that night? Why did she have to say that? That last part didn't happen back then. Why did he have to bloody dream it, too?

Why did it have to be that night?

He took a few deep breaths and looked up to the sky's dark red and purple hues with the stars beginning to shine out for the night. Balthazar just watched the sky get darker as he focused on breathing and thought of nothing else, waiting for the pain in his chest to die down and the stinging in his eyes to stop.

* * *

As Malachi had said, Thaddeus jumped around possibly more than Michael did. Balthazar had no intention of going after Bartholomew just yet, as he was apparently the archangel's right hand, so this one had to be dealt with first. He had no hopes of tracking the angel down and finding him, so the next best option was to draw him out.

He didn't know where Thaddeus was at any given moment, but he did know where he was going to go and where he had been, thanks to another dead rat. The latter was useless, but the former meant that there would have been scouts sent ahead of his pompous ass to check for decent vessels before he arrived on scene. Killing a group of his angels that was ahead of him also meant that Balthazar had more time to prepare for a fight. He didn't entirely know how much time, but it was less than two days, at the most.

It took a lot of thought and effort to get back into the car, though. He vowed to never sleep in the damn thing again, even if he had to sleep under a tree next time. However, once he did eat a little bit and finally continued along his path, it wasn't very long until he found one of those nests he had heard so much about near a cabin on the outskirts of a small town. Only had three angels, too.

Balthazar had killed the first one before she even knew he was there. The second tried to put up a fight and failed miserably. The third, though, managed to cut him along his cheek before that one inevitably burst into light as well. At least someone finally got a hit on him. He was beginning to take all of his recent luck for granted.

Another drawback of his current situation, aside from not knowing when Thaddeus was going to show his face, was that Balthazar had to stay in town for a little while after committing three murders. He had to get rid of the bodies first, which was definitely a troublesome matter.

After some thought, he decided that the best option was to burn and bury them. It didn't matter if Thaddeus found them or not – the angel would be paranoid enough with them missing as it is – but the authorities were another thing entirely. No, he had never dreamed of concerning himself with such a thing, but he wasn't about to take his grace just to break out of a pair of handcuffs.

Once getting the car to shine its headlights over the dead angels, he pushed the bodies aside and started digging. It didn't have to be deep, thankfully. Not that this was really all that problematic for him. Getting rid of bodies wasn't that hard of a task, all things considered. It kept his mind and hands busy, something that he was quite thankful for, and he hoped that he would be so tired later on that he wouldn't have any dreams at all.

Considering there were three bodies and not one, he ended up digging a little more than planned before giving up. The soil just got harder and harder to work with the further he went and he was already tired of it. So, Balthazar jumped out of the hole before rolling the bodies in as best he could. A shame about their vessels, really, but he considered it their own fault for saying yes in the first place. Now came the easy part. Burn them and cover the bodies back. Easy enough.

He spared a bit of gas for his project, even though he had started calling the stuff liquid gold these past few days. Again, he hated the monetary system. Balthazar grumbled as he put the can away and fiddled for the matches. The whole night was beginning to be a pain, he thought, striking the match against the box.

Of course it didn't light. With the way his day was going so far, why did he expect different? He tried a couple more times before the stick eventually broke. With a deep groan, he flicked it into the hole to get another out of the box, just for it to not light on the first strike either.

Right. Okay. He was putting too much force into it and he needed to calm down. Admittedly, it's been a long time since he's seen anyone light a match and he hadn't done something like that in a really long time either, but he didn't expect so much difficulty from such a simple task. He could kill a group of angels and track down their leader, but light a match? Balthazar, the angel of the Lord, captor of the weapons of Heaven, can't light a match. Yes, yes. Let's all have a laugh about it.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to relax himself. A shower would be wonderful right now, but this was going to have to be done first. Right. Bal sighed and tried striking the match again.

The match flared to life in his hand before calming down to a small flame. Balthazar watched the tiny light dance on the head, licking as high as it could manage, slowly warping and darkening the wood. He felt like, if he listened closely enough, he could hear it roaring against the wind and crackling from dry kindling. It could rise up to the sky if it wanted to, engulfing whatever was being fed into it without receiving any protest.

He jumped as his finger began to burn and Bal dropped the lit match into the makeshift grave. The fire spread through the gasoline like it was water – the bodies immediately beginning to burn together in a blaze. He jolted back from the sight and didn't realize that he had continued to backpedal until the back of his legs met the car's bumper and nearly tripped him.

The fire reached clearly over his dug hole and he watched the large flames try to lick up to the sky. He suddenly had the feeling that if he had eaten any more today, it probably would have come back up now. He remembered the pyre. He remembered the ashes rushing into the air and he remembered the smell. He remembered thinking how fitting the funeral was for her, the fire taking every trace of her body away as quickly as possible and making sure to leave nothing left. Just as she wanted. Just as she was. His legs were weak and he could swear there was a shadow on the other side of the blaze.

God, he _missed_ her.

Was that a fact he felt sympathy over or something that he was ashamed of and hated?

Balthazar pushed himself off of the car and marched forward, ripping the shovel out of ground and starting on putting dirt back into the grave. He didn't care if the fire was done burning yet. He just wanted to leave.

* * *

Again, a downside of his wonderful plan was that he had no idea when Thaddeus would arrive for his head. It would be safer to not sleep and remain prepared through the night and morning – which he would happily do after his recurring dreams and that damn fire episode he had – but then he would be exhausted the following day if his enemy didn't show his face. What if Thaddeus opted to wait for another day before looking for his angels and the one who murdered them? What if he got reinforcements while he was at it? Balthazar wasn't sure he could fight anything if he was falling asleep where he stood.

So... he had to sleep. He needed his rest.

First, a shower. His weary body demanded it and the sooner that was done, the better. While the water ran hot over his back, Bal figured that he also needed to eat something. Not a corn dog and a few chicken strips either. He needed actual food and, surprisingly enough, he was beginning to get hungry for it again.

With a towel draped across his shoulders, Balthazar came out of the bathroom as the steam followed, shaking his head free of water. He stopped and took a step back, watching the corner of the room. After a brief second, he blinked and shook his head again, his tired eyes playing the oldest of tricks on him.

The idea of eating something decent was not forgotten, so he left the room for a moment to go back to the car and dig out whatever he had left. Bal didn't want to leave this motel for as long as he was going to be hunted. He wanted to fight on his terms, not be surprised in a back alley somewhere.

He closed the door to the car, a bag in tow, as he glanced up to the second floor balcony and stared for a moment. Sighing, he began to walk back into the room, rubbing his eyes. Food. A meal. He had objectives here before sleep took him, but the longer he stayed awake, the less he wanted to try and sleep.

So, Balthazar ate his food in silence, despite how greasy some of it might have been. He didn't eat it all, but he ate as much as he could without getting overly full and miserable before wondering if he was just stalling. Refusing to admit to himself that he probably was, he focused on something else, like his lack of prepared weaponry if his dear friend showed up.

Suddenly, Bal jumped and looked behind him, seeing nothing but the bare wall. He waited in silence for a moment, hand half reached for a weapon, before wondering about what had startled him in the first place. It was some sort of sound, but he wasn't sure what it was or why it had scared him like that.

This was officially getting ridiculous and he rubbed at his eyes again. It wasn't like he had gone days without rest like before. It had only been twelve- no, fourteen hours since he woke up in the car the day before. He was growing tired of the world around him, yes, but not that tired. His finger traced the scratch on his face from the fighting earlier as he looked back to the wall again. Maybe he did need a really good sleep. Something without any dreams of rain or fire. Just... rest. That could have been the problem...

And yet, when he rose up from his chair and walked to the bed, he grabbed up his bag instead of laying down. Whatever was on his mind, call it stalling or not, he knew that he needed to be ready if Thaddeus showed up. The only thing that could harm an angel was his blade, but he could at least fight smartly. They were fallen, after all, and he was hidden from them. Something that could distort their vision would be helpful, but he had no smoke bombs or anything like that. A shotgun to the face might work for a little while, but they were still faster than him and he had no holy oil to trap them with.

Balthazar stopped shuffling through his things and glanced back down to the floor, seeing her bag sitting there like it always was. He had just dragged the thing from place to place, never leaving it in the car when he decided to stay in a room for the night. At any moment, he might need the things inside... like right now. He was fairly sure that the Winchesters had given them some of their supply of holy oil and Bal knew that it wasn't in the trunk of the car. That left one other place.

Not that he really needed it, honestly. It would just make things easier and... possibly save his life and the mission. He scowled down to her bag, as if it could understand why he hated the thing so much. Well, he didn't really hate it. Just like he didn't really hate the car or that he was meticulous about keeping the seats clean or that he didn't like leaving her things somewhere while he slept in safety. He didn't _hate_ it; he just- Balthazar closed his eyes. He did not want to go through that bag. Above all else, he just wanted to leave the thing be so long as it was near enough that he could keep an eye on it and make sure it was safe.

Maybe Gabriel was right. Maybe he was going too far with her death. It was hurting him too deeply and he was having a hell of a time trying to continue on with that memory hanging in him. He needed to get her back, yes, but he couldn't get up the nerve to open her damn bag?

It's forbidden for a _reason_.

Balthazar grabbed her bag and threw it on the bed in front of him, pushing his own things aside. He wasn't pathetic. He wasn't that attached to a memory. He could muster up enough determination to go through her things. It wasn't forbidden for any damned reason. Angels felt pain and sorrow the same way humans did. He was just being a little bitch about it.

So he told himself as he glared down to the bag, jaw clenched in anger. He wanted very much to be angry at the stupid rules and himself like he always was, but for once he was angry with her. She made him feel this way and then ran off and died as soon as she had confirmation that her job had been successful. She swore to him, then she hurt and betrayed him. He shouldn't even look for her. She didn't deserve it.

The anger drained from him just as quickly as it flared up and his hand rubbed against his face, trying hard to stop what he was feeling. He wanted to crawl under the bed and cry in the darkness until Thaddeus found him and killed him. Ridiculous and pathetic and he had to reach out against the bed to brace himself from falling onto her things as he doubled over. “What are you doing?” His voice shook as he tried to gain a semblance of his composure again. Deep breaths and a clear mind. That's what he needed, as usual. He just had to stop thinking about it.

The lights flickered, successfully stopping Balthazar's previous thoughts and gaining his full attention. He waited for a moment, even considering that it was probably nothing at all, until they dimmed down again for a few seconds before coming back.

He took up his angel sword and paced towards the door. It wasn't too early for Thaddeus, that was for sure, but the electricity interference without any wings wasn't right. Perhaps he had brought more angels with him than was bargained for.

Bal slowed a few paces from the door, waiting for anything, when the same sound from before softly played behind him. He quickly turned back to the room, seeing nothing again. Was all of this his tired mind playing tricks on him or was that what his enemies liked for him to believe? Electricity buzzed loudly in the walls and the lights shone brighter as he glanced around in a near panic. Then the lights went back to normal and a moment passed of him just standing in place. All sound stopped and the world went silent.

“ _ **I'm here.**_ ”

Balthazar spun back around, managing to catch a small glimpse of a bloody and broken Catherine standing in front of him before the lights blew.

 


	34. Hallucinogens

It was probably a risk, but Gabriel flew to the exact point the GPS said Balthazar's phone was. Technology was a wonderful thing. However, he just found himself in a parking lot, standing beside a red and black striped Challenger. He tried to peak into the windows, but didn't see any phone or full grown man inside. Gabe straightened up and looked at the motel it was parked in front of. It might have been around eleven in the morning, but there were no lights on in the room nearest. He considered trying the door, but finally decided to just pop inside instead. He couldn't sense anything anyway.

When he appeared inside the room, he immediately regretted it, but it wasn't in an embarrassing way. There was blood _everywhere_. It pooled on the floor and coated the lower half of the walls. Six dead bodies were tossed around the room, and Balthazar sat at the end of the bed, torn shirt and blood up to his wrists with an angel blade glinting in his hands. It took him a moment, but he eventually glanced over to a very confused archangel. They stared at one another until the younger spoke. “Hi.”

“... Hi?” Gabe looked around the room and motioned to a few of the bodies. “Who the hell are your friends?”

“Thaddeus,” Balthazar answered, jerking his head towards the body of a young looking man slumped against the wall. “Didn't ask who the others were.”

The archangel furrowed his brow. “Thaddeus? The torturer guy?”

“He was working with Michael,” Bal explained, then tensed his shoulders and swallowed a lump in his throat. “I-... I think I'm going crazy.”

Gabriel stared at him then glanced around the room. “What was your first clue?”

“No, no, no.” Balthazar began to stand, a hand going to his temple. “No. No, I mean- I mean, I _really_ think I'm going crazy.”

“Oh, right right, okay. So, this,” Gabe pointed at Thaddeus, “is normal for you.”

Bal opened his mouth to answer, but held his tongue for a second in thought. “... I may have been a little stressed.”

“A _little_?”

“No, I- Wha- What are you even doing? Why are you here?”

Gabriel groaned. “Castiel was getting worried,” he said while his brother tilted his head in confusion. “He's been trying to call and couldn't get an answer. I called and didn't get an answer. We were starting to think you bit a bullet.”

“Oh.” Balthazar shifted in place, playing with the blade in his hand. “Well, I didn't.”

“No,” the other shook his head, “You just lost a marble, that's all.”

“I'm fine,” Bal said, changing his earlier argument and holding his sword closely. “I'm just a little stressed right now. A lot's been happening. It's been a little weird, but it's just... you know... just stuff.”

Gabe nodded. “Stuff. Yeah.” He sighed and looked up to his brother. “Are you all right? What's happening with you?”

“I'm fine,” he said again, “I'm just- I haven't really been sleeping well, that's all.”

The other stared at him for a second. “You were just saying that you were going crazy a second ago.”

Balthazar quickly straightened up. “Yeah, well-! I'm going through a phase! I don't know.”

Gabe nodded again and looked around the room. “Yeah... Okay, look.” He stepped closer to his brother, who lightly backed off a little bit at the approach before Gabriel continued. “I think you should come back. This is, uh-... You're nuts, man.”

“What?” Bal blinked to him, glancing quickly around the room. “I- I can't go back. I can't leave now. It's not even-”

“If you say it's not that bad, then you're worse off than I thought,” Gabriel interrupted him. “You're... definitely not firing on all four cylinders here, okay? We should get you home and around people that don't want you dead.”

Balthazar blinked at him again, trying to figure out if he was being toyed with or if his brother was serious. “I- I can't- I'm _not_ going back. I'm so close to Michael now. He knows I'm coming for him. He knows. I can't leave now. I can't.”

“Would you slow down?” Gabe put his hands up to show he wasn't about to use force or anything and Bal realized that he actually had to catch his breath after a second or so. “We aren't going to abandon her,” the archangel said slowly, “You _need_ some rest from this. You're going haywire.”

“You don't know the half of it,” Balthazar mumbled under his breath, then looked to his brother again, shaking his head. “I can't just... leave this here. Not right now. We can't come back to this later. He has her. He- He'll- He'll hurt her or something. He'll do something to her.”

“If he was going to do something to her,” Gabriel said slowly, “he would have done it already.”

Worry came over Balthazar and he realized how stupid it was to warn Michael. How could he be so reckless? “You don't know that.”

The archangel let out a sigh and licked his lips. Finally, he shifted and looked down to his brother's chest, brow furrowing. “Where's your grace?”

Bal's hand flew to his neck, feeling bare skin instead of the thick chord and realized that the top of his shirt had been torn open during the fight. He absently glanced around to the bodies. “One of them must have pulled it off in the fight.”

Gabe looked around at them and gave another great sigh. “Okay... We need to talk.”

“I'm _fine_.”

“You are so far from fine, you're not even in the atmosphere anymore, okay?” Gabriel quieted him and, after a brief pause, slowly continued. “When... _you_ get her soul back, what do you actually intend to do with it?”

Balthazar gave him an odd look in turn, tilting his head. “I'm going to make you bring her back... Even if I have to put a sword down your throat, I'm going to make you bring her back!”

“You don't have to resort to threats,” the other grumbled and rubbed his forehead. “You realize that humans are mortal, right? That they die?”

“Gabriel.” The archangel looked up to face his brother, finding that he had his blade lifted in front of him as if to challenge him. “I may have to resort to threats yet. What exactly are you trying to say, _brother_?”

He was silent for another moment before answering. “She'd be safer in Heaven... You know it. I know it. I can even make sure-”

“You are going to bring her back _to life!_ ” Balthazar growled. “Is that what you've come here for? Try to convince me to leave her in the ground forever?”

“You're going nuts!” Gabriel interrupted, finally getting his own say again. “Look at you! _You_ would be better off with leaving her in the ground. You need to-”

“ _Careful!_ ” he warned through clenched teeth. “Gabriel, I swear if you tell me to let her go, I will kill you here!”

The archangel narrowed his eyes and Bal tightened his grip on his blade. The elder walked closer a few paces, standing straight in front of him. “I wasn't,” he said quietly, “because you obviously _can't_ let her go... You need to take your grace back, Balthazar. You need to go to Heaven with her. I know your wings are healed from the fall. You can bring her back yourself and be with her there, where neither of you will die again. You understand?”

He didn't expect that to be one of his brother's solutions. Balthazar swallowed hard, remembering that he had thought seriously about what Heaven could hold for them before. “No.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “She's going to die any-”

“ _No_.”

“Why are you so against living?” the archangel screamed, then tried to rein it back in. “I get wanting her to live out the rest of her days. I even get being willing to die for someone you love. But you're just going to hang it up, because-... I don't even know why anymore!”

“Because-” Balthazar stopped and licked his lips, realizing for the first time that he didn't like to think about all of this. “Because I can be with her...”

Gabriel waited for more. “... You _can_ be with her. In _Heaven_.”

“No, I can't.”

Another pause went between them and the archangel wanted to strangle his brother. “... _Why?_ ”

Balthazar blinked and his eyes went to the floor, but he still held the blade up strong and steady. He had opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He hated just thinking about it. He hated everything right now. Ever since the fall, everything had been so wrong and cursed from the start. “Sidney,” he finally answered.

His brother stared at him, then looked over to the wall and stared at it for a minute before looking back to him. “Australia?”

Funny. That was funny. Balthazar really wished he could laugh at that. “She'll be with Sidney in Heaven.” Gabriel's face fell as realization struck him, but the other ignored it. “I don't want my grace. I don't want her to vanish from the world. I just want her back. It'll only be for a short while, but I'll have her back. Just a little longer, Gabriel. That's all I ask... I'll find her. I'll do everything else. Please.”

Gabe watched him closely, biting on his lip for a moment. “How do you not know how much she loves you?” Bal groaned and closed his eyes, wanting to interrupt but the elder kept speaking. “I know people have had different loved ones. I'm not saying she didn't like this Sidney person, but you're cutting yourself a little short here.”

“Gabriel.” His voice came out strained and tired. “I am not going to discuss her feelings for me with you. Don't bring it up again.” Gabe scoffed, so Bal tacked on- “Please.”

The archangel shook his head and sighed. “Fine,” he mumbled, glancing around the room. “Fine, but you need rest.”

“ _No_ ,” he said again, but finally lowered the blade. “I have to finish this. I'm close now. I have to... I'm sorry. I have to. I have to.”

Gabriel watched him and sighed deeply to himself. Someone should be with Balthazar, at least. He shouldn't be going around alone and they both knew it. “Cas has been asking a lot about you lately,” he said, raising his arm and snapping his fingers, making his brother jump but only cleaning the room of blood and dead bodies as if there were never a fight to begin with. He continued speaking like nothing had happened. “He's out with the Sasquatch brothers today. When he gets back tomorrow, I'm sending him your way. Until then, do what you want, so long as it's not drastic and stupid... Got it?”

He wanted to argue against the idea, but he nodded instead. Perhaps he really did need some sort of help...

Gabe took a breath of relief. “Good... And eat something, for pity's sake.”.

Bal looked back up to him in surprise, but only heard the sound of wings as his brother left. He swallowed a dry lump in his throat and took a relieving breath of his own. After a second of standing there, Balthazar slowly looked over his shoulder only far enough to see one of her shoes before quickly facing forward. When he gained the courage to look again, she was gone.

* * *

Balthazar had gotten a tip early on of where Bartholomew would be. Castiel or not, he had to get to that location before the angel caught wind that Thaddeus was dead, even if it was already too late. Old Barty wouldn't go into hiding – he had too much pride for such a tactic – but he would hide beneath Michael's skirts if the archangel commanded it.

To be completely honest, though, that wasn't the real reason why he was speeding. His grace felt heavy around his neck again and he fidgeted in place.

“ _ **Bal.**_ ”

Both hands tightened on the steering wheel as he refused to look away from the road. The voice was behind him now, in the back seat, and he wasn't about to take a look now.

“ _ **I'm here.**_ ”

He was losing his mind. Hearing her voice. Seeing her everywhere he went. Gabriel was right. He was nuts. Even he could admit that help was definitely needed at this point. Maybe it had been forbidden for a reason. Maybe he couldn't really handle losing her. Just one person – just one soul – causing this many problems was ridiculous.

“ _ **Bal.**_ ”

He shook his head, absolutely refusing to answer her. Hearing voices was one thing. Talking to them was a whole other problem... It wasn't even a _her_. That thing wasn't Catherine. It was something he was imagining because of lack of food, sleep, and comfort. He had been killing his brothers and sisters since her pyre burned out and he did it alone. Of course he had screws loose.

He should have brought Castiel with him from the start. It was stupid to do this alone after what had happened. He wasn't strong enough. He should have known better.

“ _ **Balthazar.**_ ”

He shook his head again, nails biting into the steering wheel. After risking a glance to the rear view mirror, he had caught a glimpse of her bloody, bruised face before looking up front again. At some point during the panic he had closed his eyes.

“ _ **Balthazar!**_ ”

Her voice right next to his ear forced his eyes open again to realize he was in on coming traffic. He quickly swerved the Challenger onto the shoulder and stayed there as cars flew past while he tried to catch his breath. She was in the passenger seat. He didn't look to see her, but she was there and finally quiet.

He wanted to believe it was her. To just sit in silence with her or look at her without having to see all of the blood. He had forgotten how much blood there had been.

With a grunt, he kicked the door open and got out of the car, pacing a bit before putting his hands on the hood, bowing his head. He risked glancing up to the horizon, but just closed his eyes and bowed his head again. She was standing on the other side of the car, watching him.

* * *

Kevin continued scribbling at his notes, as he always did. Dean, Sam, and Cas were out on a lead, hopefully getting ever closer to Lucifer, but the kid somehow doubted it. That would have just been too lucky for them, wouldn't it? For now, he focused on the stupid tablet. Perhaps he could find a way to chill out the archangels or even just restore all of the angels to Heaven. That would work wonders just on its own.

Gabriel walked into the library and Kevin wasn't successfully distracted until the angel dropped the glowing crystals on the table. The graces. Gabe seemed to be serious as well as he looked at them all.

“Uh,” Kevin straightened up in his chair, peering over a lamp to get a better view, “What are you doing?”

Gabriel took a deep breath. “Balthazar's lost it,” he said, as if that answered the question.

Tran blinked and placed the tablet down. “That... sucks,” he answered, “but what are you doing?”

“He needs help,” Gabe told him, stealing a pencil and eraser from Kevin's notebooks, placing the first in front of him and the latter in with the crystals. “I'm going to help him.”

Kevin stood up, watching Gabriel take one of the graces from the pile and place it down gently next to the pencil. “How?”

The angel glanced over to him, then looked back down and pointed to the objects. “The pencil is Raphael's grace. The eraser's Balthazar's. I'm going to recreate the night Catherine died. The graces probably weren't where they were when we found them, but they were likely in the same pattern some distance away.”

Kevin watched him place down another grace, spiraling out from the pencil in the middle. “Will that help at all? I mean, they sort of... drift around and stuff. Besides, Michael has her soul.”

“Maybe,” the other answered, putting down another pencil. “She might be gone. This probably won't help, but it'll be a start to finding out.”

“What do you mean by gone?”

Gabriel stopped and looked over to him. “I mean _gone_...” After a moment, he went back to his work. “Balthazar's reacting too badly to this. I know he doesn't have his grace, but he did have some connection to her. He wouldn't go off the deep end unless she was severed from him completely.”

Kevin watched him place down a few more graces, understanding that this would probably take some time to recreate. “Do you really think she's gone? I mean... would Michael do that to a person's soul?”

“The Michael I knew wouldn't,” he answered, “but this isn't the Michael I knew. If she's gone and Balthazar finds out before we can get to him-... I don't know.”

A silence passed through the library, only being interrupted with the light clinking of the crystals bumping together. Kevin grimaced down at them. “... Can I help?”

 


	35. Hallelujah By & By

_Oh how glad and happy when we meet_

_I'll fly away_

_No more cold iron shackles on my feet_

_I'll fly away_

 

_I'll fly away, oh glory_

_I'll fly away in the morning_

_When I die hallelujah by and by_

_I'll fly away_

 

Balthazar turned the radio off, preferring to drive in silence than to hear any song like that. Though, the silence left room for thought, so he just stared out of the front window. Not sleeping wasn't really helping his current problem, but it didn't really matter anymore, did it? It wasn't like he'd get much worse.

He hadn't heard her voice again since she screamed at him, and he was thankful for the quiet, but she was still there. He'd still catch glimpses of her every now and then. In the back seat, beside him in the front, sometimes on the side of the road out in the dark and rain. He was trying very hard to ignore her, but it was getting harder and harder. If it really was Catherine – and it _wasn't_ – he would almost believe that she wanted to speak out but was afraid of him panicking again.

Just his mind playing tricks, trying desperately to make her seem real. He'd have the real thing shortly. Gabriel wouldn't bring by Castiel until the morning. Dawn might have been barely one or two hours away at this point, but he couldn't afford to wait. Bartholomew would be looking forward to their visit at this point.

Catherine didn't approve of his choice to move ahead, shown clear enough by her angry stares and scowling.

He bit his tongue. Not her, he would think to himself. Just his mind telling him it was foolish to go alone on so little energy.

He drove through the darkness, around a small town and straight to the docks near the water front. No, he didn't know where Bartholomew and his men would be, but it was a good enough area. He would pick it if he were the one leading most of Heaven's armies now. So, he parked the car some distance away and got out.

“ _ **Balthazar.**_ ”

His back hit the car from jumping, but he didn't look up from the ground. Her voice was close by; he didn't need to see her, too... He ignored the voice and gathered his blade and a gun from the backseat, slamming the door behind him.

The rain wasn't that bad. There wasn't any thunder or lightning. Just a shower that turned the world darker than it really was. The rain looked like oil hitting the ground.

She wasn't there. Rather, he couldn't see her now. Balthazar readied his blade in front of him and began to walk. He couldn't see anything outside in the rain with him, which wasn't very surprising. It was dark, the rain made it that much harder to see, and he hadn't slept in about two days or so. He wasn't sure how many would be out here. He wasn't even sure this was the right place.

The rain was cold, though. It seeped into his jacket and through his clothes, freezing him even more than what he already felt.

Footsteps. Or was that the rain hitting the concrete? It sounded like footsteps. Was he paranoid? Should he just slice his own throat and jump off a pier before he screwed up and had someone else killed?

Someone rushed at him from behind and he had already brought his blade down on them before even looking to see who they were. By the light pouring from them as they died, he knew it was an angel and that he was in the right place. Two more came and he killed them just as quickly, before four more of them tried to rush him at once.

“ _ **Balthazar.**_ ”

His blade sang through the air, cutting the throat of one brother and disarming another sister. Two more were dead – three more – and the last tried to block his blows before he fell as well.

“ _ **Balthazar.**_ ”

He quickly turned to the voice to try and make it shut up, but she only looked back to him, standing on top of a shipping container next to the angel he was looking for. Bartholomew smiled down at him through the rain. “Hello, brother,” he smirked, then nodded to the bodies. “You're very good at that.”

Balthazar only watched him before he glanced back to Catherine. She didn't do or say anything. Her face revealed no emotion. Just blood next to her eye, her neck purple and cut open, her torso bloodied with sigils. The rain went right through her, reminding him that she wasn't there, but it did no good. He felt like he was on trial. That she blamed him. She might as well. He all but stabbed her himself.

“Alive.” Bartholomew's voice brought him back and Bal looked over to him, not understanding what he was saying. “He wants him alive.”

It only took a second for him to realize that his brother wasn't talking to him. Balthazar turned back around, his temple meeting something strong and solid head on. He couldn't recall falling, but he felt the wet ground underneath him and heard the rain play music from far away.

 

_To a land where joys will never end_

_I'll fly away_

* * *

The rain was gone. He couldn't hear it or feel it hitting him. The only thing he could hear was the buzz of electricity and all he could smell was rusted iron and mold.

Balthazar coughed, attempting to open his eyes to see the blurry world. He looked to be in an old meat locker or something. A room of metal with a bolted, sealed door and one light bulb dangling from the ceiling, blinking every now and then just to toy with his sight more. The room was small enough and no one else was there. Bal assumed that the door was locked, too.

_He wants him alive._ Bartholomew must have meant Michael. And why not? Balthazar had killed three of his little so-called generals, a handful of his loyal soldiers, and knew some of Gabriel's movements. He was obviously more valuable alive, though being taken prisoner wasn't exactly the plan.

His body felt sluggish and the world had yet to stabilize. He wondered how hard they had hit him. After some maneuvering, Bal managed to brush his hand against his chest, realizing that his grace was still there. They had taken his blade but not the grace. Surely they knew it was there. They had to be able to see it.

He coughed again, shivering against the concrete. He was so cold that his body ached. Balthazar groaned and watched the light buzz for a moment before blinking off again. When the light came back on, she was standing by the door.

Balthazar flinched back, hitting the wall behind him, but didn't close his eyes. He focused on her feet until the light began to blink again. Off, on. She was gone. Off, on. She was back. His eyes closed and he tried to raise himself from the ground, feeling something drain down the edge of his face. Probably blood. They had hit him quite hard.

He took a deep breath and glanced over to check if she was still there. She was. Gone and here again. Gone and here.

“Go away.” His voice felt as rough as it sounded. His throat burned just from speaking. Balthazar balanced himself with his arms and looked over to find that her feet was still firmly planted in the same spot. “Go. _Away_ ,” he growled, hoping that he at least sounded fierce.

The light blinked again and she didn't leave.

“Do you know what go away means?” he spoke louder, pushing himself further up until he finally found a sitting position. His back leaned against the wall. “It means leave,” he said, “Leave and don't come back. Just go.” She stayed and he grew angry. “I'm sick of you! Just go!”

The light went out again, blinking on to reveal that she was suddenly standing in front of him. He jumped against the wall and screwed his eyes shut. For what felt like a long time, he stayed that way, refusing to open his eyes again on the chance that he would see her. Perhaps he should just roll over and finally try to get some sleep instead of trying to find a way out. That seemed much more preferable, but he just took a few deep breaths in the silence for now.

“ _ **I'm here.**_ ”

The voice was quiet and spoke slowly, as if it knew what was going on with him... or was just as slow and tired as his mind. He grimaced, refusing to look. “You are  _not_ here,” he answered back, “Catherine is not here. She's dead or worse because of me and she's _not here._ ”

“ _ **I'm-**_ ”

“ _Stop it!_ ” Balthazar opened his eyes and finally looked up at her. She honestly looked hurt, and he just stared for a minute or so, before quickly bowing his head to look away. “Just stop it.” He took a few shaken breaths, then shook his head and began to mumble. “I'm so stupid... I should have left you in Sioux Falls.”

A silence passed and he, surprisingly, tilted his head back to look at her once more. He didn't fidget, grimace, try to hide, or anything. He only looked up to her and took in the whole scene for the first time since he found her in the grass. The blood, the bruises, the pale skin, it was all exactly the same as he remembered, but her eyes had a small light deep within them somewhere that could be mistaken for anything. He just watched and studied the ghost for a long time. Ghost, shadow, mirage, whatever it was. It still looked like the last time he had seen her and the only real image of her that he could even recall anymore.

“I loved you.” The words hung in the air as if it was all that really needed to be said, while the light flickered against the darkness beyond her. She didn't leave. She didn't reply. Not that he really expected either at this point. “I still love you,” he continued on, as if the pause wasn't there, “despite myself. I knew better. Forbidden. Disgusting. Wrong.” His head fell back against the wall, but his eyes didn't leave her. “I never really believed all of that over glorified bull about how wrong it was to bed or care for one of you. At first, it was all just Michael blowing his usual smoke and I didn't give a damn either way. I never cared for anyone else that deeply aside from a very few in my family, so what did I have to worry about? But it wasn't really about superiority, was it? It's about our differences, our lifespans, our... connections that we can make, our bonds to one another. It was about protecting ourselves from you, that's all. And I knew that. I knew better. I was willing to risk it and later I was willing to die for it, but I never dreamed that-... I never dreamed that the reason I would lose you would be because I loved you... I know why you left. I know why you went out there, and I should have known better. I should have never told you what I felt. What I planned. I never should have told you. _Stupid_.”

His eyes screwed shut, but he took a deep breath and looked back to her again. “I should have left you in Sioux Falls,” he said again and began to look pass her. “I'm so stupid... Now you're gone. Because I'm stupid. Because I love you. Because of me, you're  _gone_ and you're not coming back... It's over.” A beat of silence passed and his shoulders slumped. “It's over.”

The light continued flicking in and out of existence while his head slowly bowed again and he stopped moving completely. She still stood there in front of him, though, but he didn't acknowledge her or ignore her. He just sat there, allowing whatever was going on to just happen until Michael finally cut his throat. Maybe that's what he was really running so hard to this entire time. Maybe he was just looking forward to it.

“ _ **Bal...**_ ”

The voice was still there, but he hardly heard it. It sounded like it was far away, as was his small cell and the damaged light.

“ _ **Bal, I'm here... Balthazar.**_ ”

Nothing.

“ _ **Balthazar!**_ ”

The door unlocked loudly and slowly swung open. He didn't bother to look up and see Bartholomew's smirk, but he did hear a hum and then footsteps, before two pairs of hands grabbed his arms and hauled him up.

* * *

The graces clinked against each other as Gabriel made space to fit them all. Kevin didn't really know of any real way he could help out, so he just handed the graces to the angel as the other looked at each one of them for a second and put it in some seemingly random place. After a while of doing this, it had started to look like a really tight circle, spiraling out from the pencil in the middle.

“How will this help you find out if her soul was destroyed or not?” Kevin asked, hardly even causing an interruption as he handed over another crystal.

Gabriel looked it over, too, turning it around in his fingers before finally setting it down along the edges. “Her body was in the middle of all those graces when we found her,” he answered, “or when Balthazar found her, really. Do you know what happens when a soul is completely destroyed?”

Tran frowned and handed him another. “No.”

“Neither do I,” Gabe smirked, taking the grace and hardly looking at it before placing it down somewhere else. “As far as I can tell, no one knows what happens. A soul is more powerful than anything else in the world. That's why they're traded and bartered and – in some cases that includes a trench coat toting angel – used as weapons. Balthazar himself bought and sold a few souls when he ditched Heaven with the weapons he stole. It's the only thing that's worth any real value.”

“So,” Kevin squinted his eyes, thinking, “you're saying if her soul was destroyed by Michael in that spot, there would have been some sort of... celestial implosion or something.”

Gabriel smirked. “Cool but no.” He set down another grace, noting there weren't very many left now. “Angels have lots of different jobs, but we're soliders first and foremost. What we protect is Heaven and all its contents,  _especially_ the souls. We weren't only tasked with the job by Dad. It was more like... a purpose. Like a mom with her kid or something.”

Kevin watched him for a second. “I'm, uh... not following. What does that have to do with-...?”

Gabe took the last grace in his hand and wagged the crystal at Tran. “My point is, if a soul – any soul – was suddenly destroyed or just vanished, angels would know about it. Their graces would know about it. I'm just trying to figure out whose grace was where so I can find out which ones were closest to her body.”

“But were they there when she died?” Kevin asked, handing over the eraser as the last piece.

“I don't think so,” Gabe sighed. “Michael would have had a bigger hissy fit than usual if he were that close... But if the graces were over her body later, that means at least one of them went to her for whatever reason. So that must mean-...” He placed down the eraser in a space just large enough for it to fit, yet he stared down to the pattern, his thumb not leaving the last piece. “Balthazar.”

Kevin blinked at the abrupt change in subject. “What?”

Gabriel looked down to the graces and then off to the far wall, before speaking quietly. “Balthazar's grace covered her body...”

The other looked between the table and the angel. “Coincidence?”

The main entrance door fell open with a loud bang and Dean's voice reverberated off the walls. “Honey, I'm home!”

Kevin walked around the tables to greet them, but Gabriel only turned deftly to Sam, Dean, and Castiel's return. Tran was happy enough to see them and even embraced the tallest brother. “Find what you were looking for?”

Sam sighed. “No, not really. Whatever informants we might have had were dead by the time we got there. All of them. No evidence. Nothing. Whatever we or Michael might have, they're scared of Lucifer more.”

Dean only groaned at the explanation, placing down his things on the table, but Castiel held on to his bag and looked to his older brother instead. “What's wrong?”

Everyone looked to Cas, then to Gabriel who did admittedly seem somewhat troubled. He glanced around to them all and watched Kevin open his mouth to try and explain, but the archangel beat him to the punch. “I know what happened.”

They all stopped to look at him again. “What happened?” Dean asked, “What happened when?”

“When Catherine died,” he answered and held up the eraser. “I know what happened.”

* * *

“ _ **I'm here! I'm here! Balthazar!**_ ”

The voice continued screeching on his ears, but Bal just continued being hauled along like he couldn't hear it anymore. All the voice was going to do at this point was persist until he was dead, which didn't seem like it was going to be for too much longer anyway.

“ _ **Balthazar!**_ ”

Bartholomew's men dragged him through dark hallways and into a warehouse. Its high windows showed the first rays of dawn peeking in and he noticed the sky had no trace of the night before. Even the rain was gone. Barty himself led the group and all Balthazar did was stare at the other's back.

“ _ **I'm here! I'm here!**_ ”

He wondered if he even really remembered her voice or if the sounds he had been hearing were only what he wanted them to be. He wanted to believe it, of course. He wanted to. Now, though, he just felt broken. He'd lost everything  _again_ , but this was so much worse than the first time. They took everything. Why was he the one always faced with everything being taken?

“ _ **Balthazar!**_ ”

The angels pushed him down to kneel. When he fell to their bidding and didn't move, one of them grabbed a tuft of his hair and pulled his head back hard to look up to Bartholomew standing over him. One of them had a blade near his throat, but he just kept breathing, not looking away from the angel before him.

“ _ **Balthazar, I'm here!**_ ”

Bartholomew continued smirking down to him, a hand reaching out and gently gliding over his captive's neck. “We've been waiting for you to get this far. I should take this time to thank you for thinning out the competition a little bit. Dirty business for a guy like me.”

“ _ **I'm here!**_ ”

“Now...” Bal furrowed his brow, while his brother's fingers found the chord around his neck and drew on it until his grace appeared from beneath his shirt. Bart's smile grew. “There's our heretic.”

“ _ **I'm here! I'm here!**_ ”

Bal's breathing quickened, trying and refusing to put the pieces together. Bartholomew's hand wrapped around his grace. “Can't believe you never knew. Michael's been looking  _everywhere_ for this.”

“ _ **Baltha-!**_ ”

Bal lurched forward as the chord snapped from his neck. He froze, watching his brother turn away from him with his grace and her soul dangling precariously in his hand. For the first time, he tried to listen as hard as he could.

But the world was silent...

“ _Catherine!_ ”

 


	36. What Is Dead

Instantly, all of the pain stopped and she was nothing once again. Her connection was lost. His thoughts and emotions were gone. Everything was just gone. No pain or fear or identity. Nothing.

Then... there was something. Something that brought the situation back for a brief moment and she felt fear, but not for her own sake. It had brought the thought of him back.

“ _Catherine!_ ” The angels had to hold Balthazar back when he screamed again. Bartholomew walked on like he hadn't heard anything. For every step he took further and further away, Bal's fear grew, until his eyes caught a silver glint of the blade near his throat.

His hand shot up and grabbed the blade's edge, quickly twisting it from the other's grip and stabbing the angel through. The rest drew their blades and Balthazar had to kill another one before finally finding his feet again.

_Alive_ . They needed him alive for whatever reason. They could have easily killed him just to take his grace and her soul, so that obviously wasn't their reasons. He didn't know why – he didn't care or want to know – but they were ordered by Michael not to kill him.

Balthazar dared them to stop him without using lethal force.

But their orders didn't stop them from retaliating. One of them managed to cut his thigh and another nearly stabbed him through the collar, but made a slash over his neck and chest instead. He powered on, though, killing them just as quickly as all of the other angels that had gotten in his way. He wasn't thinking or knowing anything. He only saw red and killed them all one by one.

“Balthazar!” Bartholomew's voice boomed throughout the room, but the other turned to face him only after finishing off the last of his entourage. With a blade in one hand, Bart help up the grace as if he meant to crush it if his brother didn't listen to him.

That probably would have worked at some point. Balthazar quickly twirled the blade in his hand and threw it just the way she had taught him. It found a home in Bartholomew's right eye just as he seemed to be speaking again, but the only sound was a short scream with the light before he fell to the ground like the others.

The grace had fallen from his hand at some point and sat an inch or so from his fingers. Balthazar stared at it before trying to take a step forward, only falling to his knees instead. He felt drained. He felt... dizzy. It wasn't that surprising. Bal was exhausted when he arrived at the docks, then he went through two fights, a handful of wounds, and- It was relief. It was _joy_. And it was confusion. Shame. How did he not realize? How did _Gabriel_ not realize? Or had he?

It didn't matter. She was there. She had always been there. A smile threatened to pull at his lips, before he forced himself to get to his feet again. Balthazar stumbled forward, opting to figure out everything else later. Right now, he just- He smiled. A real smile at the first good thing he had felt in awhile.

Then the sound of large wings made the smile completely dissolve and Balthazar stopped walking. He stared down to the grace – its contents swirling inside, shining brilliantly as it always did – and watched as the archangel's foot stepped forward and pressed against the crystal, holding it in place.

Michael watched the light dance against the concrete before slowly looking up to his brother. “Hello, Balthazar.”

The other tried to swallow before looking up to face the elder. Bal definitely wanted to say something, but he mostly wanted to _do_ something... except he very much remembered the last time he tried to do something and he wasn't nearly as bad off as he was back then. He also remembered what happened to her and what that led to. After tasting copper, he realized he had been biting the inside of his cheek.

Michael frowned to him and eventually sighed with a grimace. “You _never_ reply. That's disrespectful.” He moved his arm and threw Balthazar against a support beam, hearing the loud crash and hoping his brother wouldn't pass out yet.

The world went black for a second while Bal blinked and came back to the world, finding that he was pinned to the beam and couldn't move forward. “Michael,” he coughed, watching the other closely.

The elder sighed, rolling the grace beneath his shoe. “I have been waiting for this,” he said quietly before beginning to add pressure, causing cracks in its surface.

“Michael!” Balthazar jolted against the beam, trying to move forward and finding that he still couldn't.

The other raised a hand and hushed him. “This won't hurt her,” he whispered back, only watching the light. “She's hardly even frightened.” The crystal gave and the glass smashed beneath his foot, causing the white mist of Balthazar's grace to pool around him. A grace was not what interested him, though.

Bal didn't realize that he had stopped breathing. He watched as the brightest part of the mist rose up – a little wisp flowing along that was brighter than the sun and more entrancing than anything else on this Earth – and it flowed right into Michael's waiting hand. Balthazar tried to pull himself free again as the archangel slowly closed his hand around her soul. His eyes had moved to the younger angel as he started squeezing, the light shining brighter and brighter between his fingers and a high pitched noise echoing across the room.

“ _Stop it!_ ” He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything except scream. “ _Stop! Please! Please! Stop it!_ ”

The noise died away and the light dimmed as Michael relieved his grip a few margins, but he still frowned and paced a few steps closer to his brother. “Do you know why you're alive right now?” he asked, knowing that the other hardly even noticed the question. “I don't have many loyalists, Balthazar. Even the ones you killed didn't follow me for the right reasons. They were only here for power or, worse, survival. They don't remember anymore. I'm not Father, but I am the eldest son and I should be seen with more respect, don't you think?” Balthazar didn't answer, as predicted. He looked terrified, glancing between Michael's face and his hand. The archangel sighed and continued. “This is humanity's fault. Ever since we've gotten involved in the affairs of Earth, Heaven has fallen apart. It's the humans... So, I'm going to remind you what you are, Balthazar, and I'm going to remind you what _this_ is.” He shook his fist.

He was going to kill her. He was going to destroy her just to teach him a lesson and Balthazar began to panic. “You're supposed to protect them,” Bal choked out through his cracked voice, “He ordered us to protect them. To love them more than Him and look at what you're doing.”

“I _am_ protecting them... as a whole,” Michael spoke calmly and took a deep breath. “We need to leave them to themselves and handle our own business elsewhere. No more meddling in either of our affairs, but I need our brothers and sisters back. I need you back. I need you to fight like you once did.”

He shook his head to every word. “Don't-”

“You _will_ remember, Balthazar.” The archangel's voice was firm, unrelenting. “Once she's gone – completely gone – you will remember. You'll be yourself again and she will be just as she's always been. Impermanent and meaningless... She struck me on Lucifer's orders. She's the worst of them.”

Michael began to back away and Bal, for the third time, fell to his knees, still not able to pull completely away from his confines. “I'll go with you. I'll fight with you. You don't have to-” The elder turned his back on him, pacing away. “Michael, please. Please, don't do this! Please! _Michael!_ I'll do whatever you want! I'll do anything!” The same high pitched sound began again, getting too loud and strong for Balthazar to even think anymore. His hands covered his ears and he glanced down to the ground and his grace before looking back up to his brother.

Michael stopped pacing and let up his grip again, allowing the noise to quiet. “You're missing the point,” he sighed and turned back around, “just like the oth-” His face fell.

Balthazar's head had fallen back as his grace washed over him, pouring into and through him, a soft glow pulsing from his vessel. He took a deep breath and the light dimmed away, leaving Bal to open his eyes to Michael.

The other only scowled back in return. “That's a little better, I suppose.”

“No, it's not.” Bal stayed there for a moment, watching his brother closely, before slowly rising to his feet. “I am an absolute idiot,” he growled, standing straight again, “Begging doesn't work. Screaming, throwing tantrums-... Actions hardly even work anymore, but it's better than letting you think you hold every card there is.”

Michael tilted his head. “But I do,” he said, raising his fist of light, “Literally. Unless you're willing to gamble with her existence.”

Balthazar looked to the other's raised hand and the light pouring through. Everything was different again. Everything was back to as it should be. It wasn't just a brilliant light. It was her soul. It was Catherine's beautiful soul and he was finally being able to see it again like he thought would never happen. Except she was hurt and in a pain that very few souls experience, even in Hell. He was hurting her, breaking her, and Balthazar could see horrid scars of where Michael had done the same before.

He looked back to him and Bal furrowed his brow. “Gamble?” he muttered, making a grimace of disgust, “If I listen to you, she'll be gone within the hour. There is no gamble.” Bartholomew's blade flew into his hand.

Michael frowned now in disbelief. “You'd raise a sword to me?” Bal stalked closer, hardly feeling the archangel's confines over his vessel and the other's scowl deepened.

Only Balthazar didn't stop his approach. Michael squeezed harder at her soul, the high pitched shriek breaking the windows, but Bal growled and leapt forward to attack. The archangel backed off quickly, barely dodging the blade and letting up the pressure on her soul again while unsheathing his own sword. The next swing that Balthazar took was met in a parry, before Michael telepathically pushed him back.

But he didn't fall. His legs braced him from toppling over and he pushed himself forward again to meet Michael's blade. It didn't seem like his brother wanted to kill him either, just as he told the others to. No, he wanted to subdue him and make him watch as he destroyed the only truly good thing he had ever had – the only truly good thing that he had ever seen. So Balthazar continued to push forward, trying to use the handicap as an advantage but to little avail. Michael easily parried his blows and only looked to be getting angry by the younger one's persistence. This was hardly even a match and it was so painfully obvious, but he couldn't stop. At this rate, she would be gone either way, but he couldn't live with himself if he stopped... He couldn't let Michael have her. He couldn't stop.

Michael dropped his blade to gain a free hand and grab onto the angel's collar and push him back harder, forcing Balthazar into the same support beam and disarming his as well. “Fine,” he ground out between his teeth, “You want to die for _this_?”

Bal pushed forward, not caring to hear what his brother had to say, but every inch he gained only made it harder for him to move. Michael snarled and pushed him back again, and Balthazar fell and vanished before colliding with the beam again.

Surprised, Michael glanced across the room. When he heard a scrape of metal at his feet and large wings behind him, he turned around for Balthazar to appear and stab him through the chest. For a split second, he considered what to do with his unruly younger brother after attempting to hurt him so badly, but the archangel's legs gave way and he fell back, suddenly realizing that he had been stabbed with his own blade.

Balthazar fell with him, kneeling over Heaven's champion as he ripped the blade out and Michael screamed, the blinding white light instantly searing everything in the room and the aftershock bending the walls and destroying some of the terrain outside even as Bal tried to contain the blast. In an instant, it was over.

The clenched hand relaxed a bit and the soul quickly flew out of the dead angel's reach. Balthazar swallowed hard and stood up to take in the scene. Everything had been charred black, but the imprint of six large wings encompassing the entire floor and touching the far off walls was untouched by the smut.

Balthazar stood there, unbelieving. He had killed Michael. He had killed his eldest brother, God's first son. He had killed him and the blade clattered to the ground. Her soul appeared in front of him, though, bringing him back from his thoughts to watch her. Catherine came closer to him, but he didn't reach out to her. He didn't have to. She was there with him – always had been – and she wouldn't leave him now.

The air changed quickly and Catherine passed over Balthazar's shoulder, making him turn around. His eyes landed on Lucifer, who stared down to the body.

Bal stopped breathing as Satan's eyes looked up to meet his. The archangel was obviously stunned and even seemed to be distressed. His mouth moved, hardly whispering, “What have you done?” The other didn't move, frozen in place, watching his elder brother's face twist quickly enough into anger. “You _killed_ him!”

Balthazar reached out for Catherine's soul and flew away as fast as he could.

* * *

Dean scrunched up his nose. “A little random,” he muttered before putting both hands on his hips and speaking louder. “All righty then, Einstein. What did happen when she died?”

Gabriel walked forward to the group, still thinking and tossing the eraser from hand to hand. “Lucifer killed her and Michael was going to destroy her soul, but we know that she still managed to banish them, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Sam grimaced, “by carving the sigil onto her stomach.”

Gabe shrugged. “It worked. Which meant that she had to die at the same moment or little while after they were gone. They didn't kill her first. So, if she didn't die right away, then-”

Sam nodded, “Her soul wasn't destroyed right away. It wasn't destroyed at all.”

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. “We knew that already,” he said, making everyone go quiet, “Balthazar knew that. He's working to get her back right now because of it.”

“No, no.” Gabriel shook his head, trying to quickly change the subject back to his favor. “That's not my point. Michael intended to destroy her there, just like Lucifer intended to kill her. He only had enough time to do one or the other... He didn't take her soul with him.”

Cas frowned and thought on that. “Then where is she?”

They all looked to Gabriel and bit his lip, watching his brother. “I couldn't sense her before, because he had hurt her so badly. I never thought that-...”

Dean stepped forward. “Thought what?”

The angel glanced over to him. “When we found her, she was with all of the other graces and Balthazar's grace was covering her body. He was protecting her. Trying to heal her.” The others looked confused, so he just said it. “Her soul is with Balthazar's grace.”

The confusion only grew and he could see the questions forming in front of him, but they were cut off by the ground suddenly beginning to shake.

Kevin quickly grabbed onto something. “Earthquake?”

The shaking got worse, the loud sound of thunder ringing around them. “In Kansas?” Dean answered back loudly, scrambling with the others.

Sam just grabbed on to the table. “Kansas does have earthquakes, Dean,” he said, but looked around, assuming that one here would be short and not nearly this bad.

But Gabriel stayed in place, watching the ceiling as the shaking quickly began to slacken off. “That's not an earthquake,” he said, “It's a flyby.”

Castiel suddenly jerked forward – “Wait!” – but Gabriel was suddenly gone, the eraser bouncing across the floor as the shaking finally stopped.

* * *

Balthazar destroyed a few trees before his back violently connected with the ground. Of course he couldn't run forever, but he also didn't have any time to get her soul to safety either. This wouldn't end well, unless the band of misfits felt his warning.

He leaned up on one hand – keeping her soul clutched closely to him, fearing that Lucifer would snatch her away at any second – while Satan himself paced slowly closer, real anger in his eyes. A frost touched the grass despite the sun's rays and a few of the plants wilted where he stepped.

“He was my enemy,” Lucifer hissed, getting closer as Balthazar tried to inch away. “My brother. Mine to kill, not yours. It was our fight.”

Unarmed and defenseless, Bal continued trying to backpedal as best he could. He couldn't trust that someone would show and he couldn't try running again. He definitely couldn't fight back like this. It wasn't about his own life. Catherine was fragile after Michael's torment. Lucifer may not destroy her, but he would not be kind and Balthazar couldn't risk it. But there was no where else to go now. He kept moving back, as if it were actually keeping the devil at bay.

“You took that from me,” Lucifer growled, “You took that from all of us! You were not supposed to kill him. You, least of all. It was _our_ war from _our_ Father!”

Balthazar's back hit a tree. “You killed Gabriel,” he said in spite, finally cornered, “Don't act like you're starting to care now.”

“Care?” Satan stopped a few steps from him, tilting his head. “No, brother. I did kill Gabriel. Now I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill all of you.”

Balthazar flinched back just as wings sounded in front of him and he was suddenly looking to Gabriel's back. His sword was drawn and he stood in front of Lucifer with determination. The devil backed up a step, but Gabe just scoffed, “What is dead may never die, dickhead.”

Bal looked between them and quickly scrambled up to stand, still holding on to her soul. Gabriel didn't look away from his opponent, but he tilted his head to address his younger brother. “Go.” Not needing to be told twice, Balthazar and Catherine's soul was gone at the sound of wings.

Gabriel turned back to face Lucifer and look him straight on. The other seemed even angrier, but his fury could only be noticed by those who really knew him. An unspoken glare just staying in silence for a moment. “He killed Michael.”

“So I hear,” Gabriel responded, holding his blade tight. “It's sad, but not a bad thing.”

Lucifer glared daggers into him and his face twisted in anger again. “What about our Father?”

“I told you,” Gabe spoke calmly, “I'm not on Michael's side or yours. I'm on theirs.”

“Just like Balthazar,” Lucifer groaned. “You'll die just like Balthazar.”

He stepped forward and Gabriel rose his blade to him. “Don't forget,” the archangel challenged, “I have the graces you're after. Can't be too quick on the draw there, slick.”

Lucifer grimaced again and approached anyway as Gabe struck out with his sword. Satan dodged and backed off a step, giving the angel the advantage. But only for a second until Gabriel lashed out another time – aiming for the other's throat – and Lucifer took his brother's wrist to twist and hold while his other hand reached around to grab onto the back of the angel's head. “I don't care,” he said and stabbed Gabriel through the neck, watching the light burn brightly and go out once again.

 


	37. Lazuri

His back hit the wall and Bal took deep breaths while quickly looking around. Was it smart to come here? He still had the anti-detection sigils, but he couldn't really go anywhere else with her... Where was everyone, anyway?

“Balthazar?”

He jumped from the wall, ready for anything, before he found that the speaker was only Castiel. Bal took a relieved breath and leaned against the library's wall again as his brother approached, wide eyed and questioning. “How did you-?” Cas gave him a once over. “Was that you? You took your grace? Where's Gabriel?”

“With Lucifer,” Balthazar groaned, then finally unclenched his hand and allowed her soul to be free again, at least until something else happened.

It was the first time Cas even noticed the soul and he watched her, speechless for a beat. “You found her?”

Bartholomew did, honestly, but he just sighed instead. “I found her...”

Castiel looked between his brother and the soul, obviously growing more and more concerned. “Why is he with Lucifer?” he asked, changing the subject back, “Was he chasing you?”

“He saw me kill Michael.”

Cas stopped and blinked to him right when another voice interrupted.

“Who saw you do _what_?”

Castiel turned to the speaker while Balthazar rubbed at his eyes and replied, “Always the questioning one, aren't we, Dean?” The hunter started approaching, Sam and Kevin running in behind him, both shocked to see the new visitor. “Don't worry,” Bal continued, leaning off of the wall and walking around his brother to meet them, “I'm not hurt or anything, but thank you for asking.”

Castiel watched as Catherine's bright soul hovered around him, seeming to drift about lazily but obviously following Balthazar. Sam noticed the soul at the same moment and pointed to her, mouth agape and trying to form a question. Kevin just stood still, glancing between them all, while Dean looked like he was about to have a meltdown.

“Wha- How are you here?” the eldest Winchester asked, trying not to panic too much, “Where did you find her? Where's Gabriel? And what the hell was that freaking earthquake? Was that you? I don't like earthquakes!”

Bal stopped on the highest step with another groan while Cat's soul drifted about as it wished. “I killed Michael,” he said again, finally making the Winchesters shut their mouths. After a moment that he was sure wouldn't be interrupted, he continued. “Lucifer saw me do it – or saw the massive explosion, at least – and decided to wring my neck for the deed. Obviously, I ran away.”

Sam blinked between his brother and the angel before stepping forward. “You have your grace back?”

Balthazar groaned. “Unfortunately, yes. For now, that is.”

The younger Winchester furrowed his brow and looked to Catherine. “And Michael had her soul this whole time?”

The angel didn't move. He only stared at the human like he may kill him and Sam regretted asking the question, but an answer finally came – quick and to the point. “No.” Sam didn't ask for an elaboration.

Dean pursed his lips and shifted. “And Gabriel is where?”

Ah, right. Bal looked back over to him, giving an annoyed sigh. “With Lucifer. Fighting, running, I don't know. He allowed me to escape.”

The Winchester nodded and Balthazar could swear he felt a headache coming on. “Right, so,” Dean shifted in place, “you left the walking, talking, cocky nuke with Satan? That's what you're telling me? Without any Michael of Heaven to stand in his way now?”

“Oh!” Bal exclaimed sarcastically, “Right, I'm sorry. I should have stayed and died alongside him. I should have let Lucifer destroy what's left of her soul without even trying to get her to safety. Oh, yes. That's a much better plan, Dean!”

The other was about to start on a proper torrent when Castiel stepped forward from behind his brother. “It hasn't been a lot of time,” he said, “We need to go after Gabriel. We need to do something.”

The sound of wings made them all jump in place, Balthazar even taking a few steps back, but Gabriel just stood there trying to stretch his neck. “Thanks for the concern,” he said before finally cracking it and letting out a deep, quivering sigh.

Cas moved towards him, one hand reaching out to his older brother. “You're okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Gabe said, shaking himself off, “Luci thinks I'm dead, though... I hope.”

Dean paced towards him, too. “You tricked him?”

“Duh!” Gabriel stretched his arms and finally relaxed, looking around at them. “Yeah, I was gonna start an impromptu fight by myself with a very angry Satan. I'm not an idiot, Dean. I can learn after the first time.” Gabe's eyes landed on the bright soul for a moment, before he looked to Balthazar who was now clenching his jaw. The archangel turned to fully face him and stand his ground. “I see you found her.”

“Yes,” the other growled, “I did.” Gabriel raised his hands, about to speak a word of caution, right as his brother vanished and appeared right in front of him, grabbing on to his collar and pushing him into the wall several feet away. Balthazar pinned him there and the others began to scramble for the two, but the archangel raised his hand to stop them. “You knew!” Bal's voice echoed off the walls. “You wanted me to take my grace back so badly that you let her-!”

“I didn't know!” Gabriel interrupted, trying to calm him down. “Listen to me, all right? Just one second.” Balthazar clenched his teeth, but didn't say a word, so the other continued. “She was hurt,” he said, “Michael had hurt her soul so badly, that I couldn't even see her anymore, especially with just my own crap grace. Her soul was healed while with your grace, just like yours was healed with Michael's. That's- That's why she's here! That's why she got stronger again... That's why you started losing it...” Bal seemed more or less unconvinced, trying to not let anyone pull something like that over him, so Gabriel sighed. “I swear, I didn't know where her soul was. I had no idea, Balthazar. I would have told you if I did. I'm not that much of a dick.”

Bal relaxed his grip and allowed his brother to push off of the wall. The others stayed in place, watching him closely for another outburst, but he only bowed his head for a brief moment before looking back up to the angel in front of him again. “You're going to bring her back,” he said in low voice, “right now.”

It was obvious that Gabriel meant to protest for a second, but he seemed to change his mind then nod. “We need to go outside,” he answered with a sigh, “where we burned her.”

Something flashed in Balthazar's eyes as if he meant to punch Gabriel anyway, but he only backed off instead, intending for the elder to take the lead. They watched each other for a moment before he finally did obey the gesture with his younger brother walking tensely alongside him.

Castiel took a few steps forward, but stopped short as Catherine's soul quickly passed him by, following after the two angels. Only Gabriel glanced back to see her. In the end, Cas and everyone else stayed where they were, watching them leave.

* * *

“He thinks you're dead?” Balthazar asked while Gabriel opened the door for both of them.

The other nodded, walking out into the daylight. It wasn't even noon yet. “Stabbed me himself, or so he believes,” Gabe answered, “He can't sense me either. Trust me, I'm paranoid enough to check all the bases.”

Catherine's soul followed them both outside, staying low to the ground as it hovered by and allowed Gabriel to close the door behind them. Bal watched her inch away and slow down so that she was still near. It was weird to see a soul act that way. “So that wasn't you, then?” he asked instead, bringing his thoughts back, “It was an illusion or something?”

“Fooled you,” Gabriel shrugged taking the lead again, “I am still the Trickster, after all.” Bal didn't answer back this time. He just kept an eye on her soul, watching her float between them like she knew what she was doing. Gabe spoke up again. “It's not you she's following, you know. No offense.” Balthazar looked up in confusion so the archangel continued. “She's following your grace. All she knows is that it made her feel better. She doesn't know anything else. Souls are instinctual things. You know that.”

“I know,” Bal answered, watching her again. Maybe Gabriel was right. Maybe he wasn't. It didn't really matter now anyway. She was still with him so none of it mattered.

Gabe glanced behind him at the pair but didn't say anything. Bringing her back wasn't really going to help his brother very much. Yes, he would feel much better with her being alive and all, but now he had his grace back and didn't believe that he could  _be_ with her, or so he claimed. She wouldn't stand for him abandoning his grace willingly and he wouldn't do it so long as it bothered her so badly. He would eventually be forced to see her die for good and then... well, whatever happened just happened. She would be happy in Heaven, at least, and she was definitely going to Heaven after the things that she had done for them, so hopefully her happiness would make things easier on the angel.

… This attachment was exactly why it was forbidden. It was more of a curse than anything, but it was done. He loved the human deeply, so he had to find a way to make the best of it.

“Here,” Gabriel spoke, stopping in the tiny clearing where they had built the pyre.

Balthazar stopped, too, not seeing any sign of ashes or anything. Even the charred logs were gone. It was just a place on the ground where the grass still failed to touch. He stared at the spot for a moment. “I should be thanking you.”

“Don't go soft now,” Gabe scoffed, going down on one knee, “but, yeah, you should.” He reached out a hand and the soul began to drift towards the archangel.

Unwillingly, Balthazar took a step or so back, watching Catherine's soul go to the only angel that was actually going to help her. He grimaced but didn't speak.

Gabriel tilted his head as she came closer. “She's still weak,” he said, gaining the other's attention. “I can bring her back just fine, but she might not wake up for a little while.”

Still more time for things to go wrong. Still more time to wait. “Can't you heal her?”

“A soul? No,” Gabriel shook his head, “Not unless I did like you and let her mingle around with my grace, but I have a feeling you'd like that a lot less than her just sleeping it off.”

That did make him scowl and the thought of being grateful vanished again. “What's that supposed to mean?”

His brother just scoffed in return. “You can't decide if I want to kill her or screw her. The actual answer is neither,” Gabe answered back sarcastically but turned serious. “I'm bringing her back, yes, but only because you'd torch my ass if I didn't. I would rather see her in Heaven, honestly. I don't like this will they or won't they crap... Besides, you were the one who went looking for her. You were the one who stayed with her before. She cares for  _you-_ ”

Balthazar shook his head, cutting off the lecture. “Just bring her back.”

Gabriel watched his brother for a second, unmoving. Finally, he shifted to get more comfortable and looked back to Catherine's soul. “Fine,” he grumbled, directing her closer to the ground, “She can tell you herself.”

Again, Bal didn't answer. He refused to answer that one. To be honest, he had no idea how he was supposed to greet her once he saw her alive and well again. He wasn't sure how to act or what to say or even how she would feel about it all and what questions she might ask him. Right now, it didn't matter. Once she was back, nothing else would matter anymore. He could just leave and watch over her if it came to that... He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

The wind began to pick up and her soul glowed so brightly that a human would have to look away. Balthazar was suddenly grateful that he didn't have to, but also wondered how much energy this would spend of Gabriel. Maybe Lucifer couldn't sense him, but could he sense this? Perhaps Gabe had prepared for that, too. Either way, Bal said nothing, not willing to interrupt even with the possible threat of the devil. She would be fine. He'd see to that. Just... one thing at a time.

The light burst forth and the wind rushed pass him, stirring up dried leaves and dust. Apparently, the archangel knew enough to know what he was doing, but was the light show necessary? Maybe he was less creating the body from scratch and more helping the soul along. Balthazar didn't know – his expertise never sat with something like this – but the light dimmed away and the wind died down quickly enough.

Gabriel's hand was resting on her bare, uncut stomach as he checked her breathing and heart rate. Balthazar just stared down at her, being a bit shocked at seeing her unharmed. It had been awhile since he could imagine such a thing... Then something else struck him. “Why in the hell is she naked?”

“We didn't bury her, basket case,” Gabe answered, looking to Cat's face and removing his hand from her. “Her clothes were burned.”

“So was her body, o' great archangel of God,” Bal grumbled, stepping towards her and instantly clothing her in what she had been wearing the last time he saw her alive. He dropped to his knees beside her, meaning to just check and physically make sure that she was all right, until he got a better look at her and the shock wanted to come back. His hands touched her neck then glided over the sides of her face, still feeling how warm she was compared to him even with his grace back. She was breathing. She was sleeping like he had seen many times before... Everything began to rush back and the current situation hit home for him. She was alive again.

Gabriel stayed still and watched his brother's face change from one of jealous annoyance to something more awe-filled and tender. He watched Balthazar's thumb glide slowly over the skin beneath her eye before Gabe his head a bit. Perhaps this was a bad time, but he opened his mouth to say something to break up the moment anyway, but his brother spoke first.

“Gabriel.” Whatever words the archangel had failed him at the sound of Balthazar's voice. A soft whisper that nearly sounded like the other was truly on the verge of tears. “Thank you.”

The elder closed his mouth and nodded, looking back to her. When he did speak, it wasn't with sarcasm and his voice was low as well. “It might be hours or even days until she wakes up again, but she should be fine other than that.”

Balthazar didn't even acknowledge that he had heard anything. He stayed still, his hands gently going over her face and hair, like he intended to just wait like this until she woke. Eventually, his expression changed back to something more serious and he looked away from her face while his arms slunk under her body.

Gabriel stood as Bal picked her up and began to carry her back to the bunker.

* * *

Catherine lay in their bed, about as comfortable as Balthazar could make her, while the angel in question stood against the wall a few feet away, watching her breathe. He didn't want to get any closer for fear she would wake and be startled or angry or- He feared nearly any kind of reaction, but he didn't want to leave either. He didn't want her to wake up alone and he definitely didn't want something else happening to her. Honestly, he didn't know what to do, so Bal just stood there, keeping as best of a guard as he could while she slept.

The fighting wasn't over. Lucifer was out there and he was very angry, no doubt spreading some sort of torment. Gabriel and the Winchesters would want to move quickly and no one could blame them of it, but it still left Balthazar with an awful feeling. If only he had the same options as before, he could just steal her away and let everyone fight amongst themselves while he kept her safe. It wasn't like he gave a damn about the rest of this crap. Except Lucifer was angry  _with him_ . If he left, he would be hunted down and killed. He couldn't bring Catherine into that, but he couldn't just leave her behind to fight in this war without him. Satan would get his hands on her one way or another and that-... that wouldn't end well.

Balthazar's thoughts were cut short and he looked to the door, finding Castiel standing there and awkwardly shifting on his feet. The other stopped moving when he realized he had been noticed so he glanced to Catherine. “She's-...” Cas cleared his throat, “She's okay?”

It took a second, but Bal nodded and looked back to her. “She's okay,” he answered, “Gabriel said she may not wake for a few days or so.”

Castiel shifted in place again before walking forward into the room. Balthazar didn't lash out or stop him or even so much as move, so the other took that as an invitation to stand beside his brother. “The worst is over now,” he said, trying hard to be encouraging. “Everything should work out.”

The other shook his head slowly. “Lucifer wants my head,” Bal sighed, “and he'd go through whatever means to get it.”

“We'll win,” Castiel said with such conviction that Balthazar blinked and looked over to him before he continued. “Michael's gone. Gabriel has two archangel graces within him, plus the graces that he hasn't taken on yet. You're completely healed since the fall. We have the Winchesters, the angel tablets, the resources. He has blind anger and no help... We can't lose. He can't hurt us.”

Bal watched his brother for a second and realized that the other actually believed what he was saying. He chuckled and looked back to Catherine. “You remember back when Dad ordered Michael to strike Lucifer down?” There was no response. Of course Castiel remembered and Bal glanced back to him. “If he can hurt God, then he can hurt us.”

Cas' eyes moved up and down over his brother before he finally looked away. “Kevin's left with Crowley.” Balthazar closed his eyes and the other sighed. “It was Dean's orders. He doesn't want Lucifer getting to either of them... I don't believe that the fight is coming to us, brother, but I know that it is not far away.”

“What about her?” Bal asked, tilting his head up but still keeping his eyes closed.

“Dean mentioned that the dungeon might work,” he answered, shifting in place and rolling one shoulder, but his words were still strong and full of belief. “Demons can't get in and we can just angel proof that entire wing to keep Lucifer at bay if he tries for it.”

“And keep me out if she needs me.” Balthazar opened his eyes again, staring at the far wall. It wasn't like he could stay with her, just sitting out the fight and being completely depowered like that.

But Castiel's jaw hardened and he turned completely to face his brother. “We  _will_ win. We cannot lose,” he said sternly, “He cannot hurt her or you or anyone else.”

Bal sighed. “I'm just being realistic, Cassie.”

“You're being pessimistic.”

Balthazar glanced over to his brother's angry, stern face and began to laugh. After bringing a hand to his face and taking in a deep breath, he looked back to Catherine again. “I hope so,” he said aloud, “We can't lose. Not again.”

 


	38. Thunder

Castiel scribbled on the walls, the marker squeaking against the metal. He drew the warding sigils over their dungeon as if he had done it every day for his entire life, hardly even thinking on it. Of course, his mind was elsewhere with everything going on, but Sam's voice from across the room made him come out of his own world and quietly listen in.

“I'm worried,” the younger Winchester said, writing his tenth warding sigil on what was decided to be his wall to cover. “I mean, I'm sure Gabe has a plan and all, but it still seems a bit risky. The devil isn't exactly a low key kind of guy. Or merciful, for that matter.”

Dean finished another one of his against the back of the room and scrunched up his nose at it. He blinked and turned to face his brother. “Did you just call him Gabe?”

“Dude,” Sam groaned and turned to face him, “I'm trying to be serious here.”

The elder shrugged and shifted in place. “I don't know, man. I mean... what else are we going to do? We're kind of stuck against the rock right now. We gotta do something.”

“I know we need to do something. That's not what I'm saying.” Sam ran a hand through his hair and stepped forward. “I'm saying that I don't know what that something is and I'm scared I'm not the only one. After all of this, sure, I trust Gabriel... _enough_ , but what if whatever he's planning falls through? Where's our Plan B at?”

Dean blinked up at his brother again. “Since when have we had a Plan B for anything?”

Sam's hands flew back to his hair. “Again. Not what I'm saying.”

“All right, all right.” The eldest Winchester raised his hands, trying to calm the other. “Look, Gabriel isn't stupid and, by all rights, we have all the cards in our hands. Lucifer's got a big fight coming for him and I'm sure the old Trickster has several plans. I mean, who knows him better than his little brother, yeah?” Dean turned and pointed his thumb to Cas. “Other than Tweedledee and Tweedledum that is... Where is Tweedledum, anyway?”

Castiel didn't look away from his work, but he did furrow his brow. “I don't know any such person by the name of Tweedledum, Dean.”

Sam decided to elaborate as his brother was shaking his head and rubbing his eyes again. “He means Balthazar, Cas.”

The angel glanced over to him, then back to his work. “He went to get Catherine,” he answered, then looked over to them again. “You knew that... Dean, are you losing your memory?”

“I- I know where he went, Cas,” Dean sighed, “But it's been like ten minutes, at least. We're almost done. Mr. Born Again won't be able to come in here if he keeps waiting around.”

Castiel gave Dean a sarcastic look before hearing footsteps outside of the dungeon. “I'm not waiting around,” Balthazar grumbled, carrying the still unconscious Catherine and her old bag over his shoulder, “I was getting things together.”

They watched him walk in, likely feeling the effects that their sigils already had, but still gently put his charge down on the mattress one of them had drug in there for her. Sam was the first to question, “Why were you getting things together?”

“If she wakes up before this is over,” Bal sighed, pulling the bag off of his arm and placing it on her other side, “do you honestly think she's just going to stay put? I'd rather her be armed and stupid than unarmed and stupid.” He looked down to her, wishing they could have another moment alone, then looked up to the walls. “It's going to be more than just that, right?”

“The whole thing's gonna be covered, Romeo,” Dean said, waving his arm around the room, “There's even gonna be some up and down the halls. It'll take way too long for Lucifer to even think about getting in here.”

Castiel nodded. “She'll be safe. He won't get in. He'll be too preoccupied with us than to try using her for leverage.”

Bal nodded, too, and let out a somewhat relieved breath. The worry wouldn't go away until everything was over and he knew it, but Sam brought him back from his thoughts again. “Has Gabriel told you anything?”

This time, Balthazar shook his head and stood. “I haven't seen him.” The others went quiet and he took the time to glance down to Catherine again. “I'll-...” He shifted, not wanting to leave but knowing they couldn't continue with him there. “I'll leave you to it, then.” Bal turned and began to walk out of the room.

Sam and Dean sighed, sparring a glance to Catherine before getting back to their work, but Cas stood still and watched Balthazar until he was gone. He wanted to follow, but... he was more useful to him here. Cas turned back to the wall and began on the sigils again.

* * *

Balthazar walked around the base for some time trying to relieve his anxiety, but instead he just felt the sigils becoming stronger and stronger, slowly becoming a force physically pushing against him and he hated it. He hated feeling her soul behind that barrier, knowing full well that he couldn't get to her if he tried... Well, he probably could if he tried hard enough. He would really like to believe that.

He took a deep breath. Cat was safe. He knew where she was, he knew that she was alive, and he knew that she was safe. That should be enough, but after everything that had happened it just wasn't. Maybe he just hadn't been able to resolve all of this yet. She was alive and yet he still missed her. It still felt like she was gone in an extremely frustrating way.

Eventually, Balthazar decided to change his game plan and look for Gabriel instead. Keeping himself busy would help... maybe. It didn't take long to find the archangel, though. Really, he was in the first place that Bal looked and that was outside. Gabe stood a few feet from the bunker, watching the sky. The sun was finally starting to set on the very long day, making Balthazar think back on what all had happened in those hours... He idly remembered that he had left her car behind... And yet he still wished that she was awake to fuss at him.

Balthazar walked out of the building and towards his brother, not bothering to speak up yet. The other obviously knew he was there. Even while standing beside him, Gabriel didn't react to his presence in the least, so Bal continued to stand there in contemplative silence for several minutes until he couldn't stand the need for a distraction any longer.

“Please tell me you have a plan,” he eventually muttered, just loud enough for his brother to hear.

Gabriel still didn't move or blink, but he at least answered at a normal volume. “Sort of,” he said, “The best prize is a surprise, you know.”

Silence prevailed for another moment, until Bal groaned and bowed his head. “That joke has absolutely no context, but sure. Yeah. Good prizes.”

Gabriel finally looked over as Balthazar shifted in place. “Really,” he said, trying to sound a bit more hopeful, “Lucifer doesn't know about our secret weapon. We'll be just fine.”

“And what is our secret weapon?” Bal chuckled humorlessly, “You?”

Gabe frowned. “I'm awesome.”

“We're screwed,” the other said, rubbing his face. “We're screwed and you've only just decided to tell me.”

“We're _not_ screwed,” he said, then turned and clapped his brother on the back. “Why don't you and Cas have a heart to heart or something? They're about done in there.”

With that, Gabriel started walking back to the entrance of the building, confusing Balthazar and worrying him more at the same time. Was the archangel trying to avoid the subject? Were things that bad?

Time passed and he had been sitting outside, watching the sunset through the trees, when he heard the door open and close again right before a pair of feet stood beside him.

“Gabriel told me to come out here,” Castiel said, “but what he suggested sounds extremely painful.”

That almost made Balthazar smile. “Heart to heart is a figure of speech, Cassie.”

“... Oh.” After a pause, his brother sat down beside him and squinted at the trees. “What does it mean, then?”

“It means-...” Balthazar sighed and decided to change his answer to something more accurate of the situation, as their older brother had obviously sent them both away for one reason or another. “It means we're screwed, Cas,” he finally answered. “It means we're screwed.”

The other blinked at the trees and stayed quiet for a long time before replying with another, “Oh.”

* * *

Sam was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, suddenly afraid and flicking his eyes between his brother and the archangel. There was some sort of argument going on, but he couldn't get a word in edgewise to figure out what it was over for the life of him. All he knew was that he didn't know and that was the basis of the fighting.

Gabriel wasn't angry yet, but he was quickly going down that road and felt like it would just be easier to smack Dean and get this over with... but it wouldn't work out well like that. “We have to tell him,” he stressed again.

But Dean shook his head violently, threw his arms up in the air, and paced around the room. “No!” he said, pretending that would be the end of their discussion. “No!”

“If you don't,” Gabe continued, staying by Sam's side, “I will.”

“I said, no!” Dean nearly screamed. “Do you know what that would- Can we talk about this somewhere else?”

“ _No_ ,” the angel said with a real finality that was completely unlike the human's tantrum.

The Winchester paced around again, the younger one watching very worriedly. “I don't care,” Dean finally said. “I don't care what happens. I don't care about you. I don't care. That's a _bad_ plan and we aren't telling him jack! Got it?”

Gabriel watched and waited until Dean stopped fidgeting around before speaking up again. “Billions will die,” he said slowly and carefully, “I need him.”

“ _Need him?_ ” Dean screeched in anger. “You're the one who told me he had a crap rep and left it at that! You're the one who convinced me to not tell Cas or Balthazar! Why in the hell should I trust any of this crap when it sounds so damn fishy from the start?”

“Seriously?” Gabriel tilted his head. “You're the one who let him in in the first place, moron.”

“He was dying!” the elder Winchester screamed again, “He was dying. I was desperate. He gave me a name that Cas trusted! I even tried the background check, man! What the hell do you want from me now?”

The angel stood his ground again. “I want you to admit what you did and tell him the truth.”

“It would kill him!”

“He's _been_ healed, Dean!” Gabriel finally raised his voice, causing the other to back off a step or two. “You think I haven't been checking up on this? Sam's been healed for weeks.”

“Um.” The younger Winchester leaned forward in his chair. “I'm sorry. Sam's been what now?”

Dean waved his hand at his brother. “It's not important.”

Gabriel growled in return. “It is important!” he said, gaining attention again. “I need him in this fight, Dean. Now, he can take complete control any time he likes, but I won't like that and you definitely won't like that, so we need to calm down and tell him what happened.”

“Oh,” Dean nodded, “and once we explain everything, we can magically trust him? He gave me a fake freaking name. I can already tell you that he's going to screw us! What we should be doing is forcing you to kick his feathery ass out of there!”

“We can trust him,” Gabe spoke calmly. “He's made mistakes, but that was because he was always trying to do the right thing. Are you going to tell me you're not guilty of the same, Dean?”

The Winchester groaned. “So instead of stabbing me in the face, he's going to _accidentally_ stab me in the face?”

Sam shook his head, trying to raise his hands between the two of them. “Who the hell are you talking about?”

“No one!” Dean yelled again.

Then Gabriel sighed and looked down to Sam. “We're talking about Gadreel.” The elder brother stepped forward angrily, but Gabe raised his hand. “He needs to know, Dean,” he said as calmly as he could, “Whether he ends up helping or not, Sam needs to know what happened and what's going on.”

There was a beat of silence that Sammy quickly interrupted. “What _is_ going on?”

“All right, fine! Look,” Dean knelt down on one knee in front of his brother and began trying very hard to find the words. “Sam... I'm sorry. First and foremost, I'm... _very_ sorry... But I had to. I had no choice. The trials-... They messed you up real bad. Like really really bad... I had no other choice.”

He stopped from his brother's very confused look. Sam glanced between the both of them. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his eyes going back to Dean, “The trials didn't mess me up. I'm fine.”

“No, you-” The elder brother took a deep breath and Gabriel subtly stepped back. “You weren't fine. You were dying, Sammy.” The other looked between them again, but Dean continued. “You don't remember. I got an angel to help you. He said he was Ezekiel and Cas told me that guy was cool so I let him do what he had to do, but he lied.”

Sam furrowed his brow, still failing to follow. “What?”

“The angel lied to me,” Dean said, looking away. “He's not Ezekiel. He's this other dick. Gadreel. Gabriel figured it out when he found him.”

“Found him?” Sam looked up to the angel, then back to his brother. “What? He's- He's here?”

Dean rubbed at his face. “He, uh.” The Winchester groaned and tried to look his brother in the eyes. “He was weak from the fall. He was hurt and he couldn't heal you the normal way, so he-... He possessed you... and let you take the wheel.”

The younger brother blinked and shook his head. “That's impossible. I would have to say yes to him.”

“You did.” Dean took a deep breath. “I tricked you into it...”

Finally, Sam was speechless and glanced quickly between the two of them. Neither said anything and he didn't know what to do. His mouth opened and closed like a fish before words finally started to come out. “You-... You let an angel possess me? You let an angel into _me_?”

“You were dying!” Dean argued. “It was either that or lose you. I couldn't tell you about it. He said if you knew and kicked him out, then you would die. He was all that was holding you together.”

The other just kept shaking his head, unbelieving and repeating himself. “You let an angel possess me?”

“I had to!,” he said again, “Besides, Cas told me he could be trusted! I didn't know about all this baggage crap.”

Sam leaned forward. “Cas knew?”

“No. No no.” Dean shifted in place, trying to steady himself. “Cas knew that Ezekiel was gonna heal you, that's it. Only me and Gabriel know.”

The younger blinked and looked up to the angel. “You found him,” he said, not saying that as a question before looking at the space between them. “He was still in me when Gabriel got here?” There was no answer to the rhetorical question and Sam quickly began to look around the room before landing his eyes on his brother again. “Where is he now?”

Dean didn't say anything. He squeezed his hand into a fist over and over, pursing his lips worriedly, but didn't speak. It was Gabriel that finally said something, turning completely to face the younger brother. “He's still here, Sam,” he said levelly. “He's still in you.” Sam didn't move or say anything, seeming to be momentarily shocked and Gabriel took the second to continue. “Lucifer doesn't know about any of this and Gadreel still has his grace. Maybe not his wings, but... he can still help in this fight. He can turn the whole freaking tide, but you need to let him take full control for a little while and not fight him on it.”

Sam blinked up at Gabe and slowly looked down to the floor. Dean, on the other hand, turned his head to the angel. “He can't have him,” he said sternly. “This Gadreel dick can't have him. Don't start with that.”

“Sam can throw him out after,” the angel answered back, “He's already agreed to it. We've... talked.”

“Talked?” The younger Winchester's voice was low and he imagined having no control of his body while the angel inside of him and the archangel he had been trusting had a casual conversation. “Why did he lie?” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat and looking up to Gabriel. “Where did he get his crap rep? Why did he lie?”

Gabriel fidgeted, playing with one of his hands. “It was something that happened a long time ago,” he said, but neither Winchester looked away or allowed it to slide. The angel sighed. “He was tricked, too,” he answered after a beat of silence. “He-... He was in charge of guarding Eden... You know, Paradise. The Garden and all that.” Both of them furrowed their brows, but he continued on. “Anyway... He was the one who, uh... let Lucifer into the Garden. Castiel and Balthazar wouldn't recognize him. He's been in Heaven's dungeons since then, but they know his name. They know the story.”

“You-...” It was Dean who was gaping now and he quickly stood up to face the angel head on. “You want the devil's sidekick on your team, in _my_ brother, with the hope that he'd fight against Lucifer?... Are you freaking insane?”

“Okay,” Gabriel agreed, “It doesn't sound good at all, but the guy had good intentions all around. He knows that Luci used him now. He knows what that brought him. Let him help. Let him do something right and fix this.”

Dean shook his head, not wanting to hear this. “How can we trust him, Gabriel? Tell me that!”

“ _Sam_ needs to trust him,” he answered back, looking down to the other Winchester, “and because we don't have any other choice right now... Me and Balthazar might not be enough if he's really angry.”

The elder rubbed at his face again and turned away. Sam just blinked and looked up to the archangel and to his brother. There wasn't a lot of choices and there definitely wasn't a lot of time. He can be angry later. “Gabriel.” He tried to think this over properly again, but just closed his eyes. “When it's done, can you promise that he won't stay in me? Even if he takes control?”

Dean stopped moving and looked back to Sam, a little stunned, but Gabriel nodded. “He won't. You have my word.”

The younger Winchester looked up at him and eventually nodded. “Then make sure you don't lose.”

His brother turned his back on them, bowing his head to the ground. The angel raised his chin. “We won't lose.”

* * *

Balthazar stood as the world quickly went quiet. Nothing moved and everything stilled. Castiel, even without his grace, felt the immediate difference and stood up with his brother. “Is he actually coming here?”

Night had only just started to set in, ensuring that the humans on their side would be more or less blinded in the dark. “He thinks Gabriel's dead,” Bal answered, watching through the trees for a sign of anything. “He thinks it's only the four of us.”

“He's just coming here to finish it...” Cas stalled and turned to his brother. “He's coming to finish you.”

Bal shrugged. “Catherine mentioned before that she would love to tie me to a stick and dangle me out in front of her on hunts. I guess you lot get to test drive that idea for her.”

Castiel smiled then scrunched up his nose. “We need a really big stick...”

Balthazar looked over to his brother just as the door opened and the trio came out to join them. Dean and Sam looked quite tense, but Gabriel looked to the angels. “I got a plan,” he said, walking over to them, “but you gotta trust me.”

Cas nodded. “Of course.” Bal just shrugged and said nothing.

Still, Gabriel took that as a good enough sign and looked between them. “You're staying with Team Human, Cas. Listen to whatever Dean says for now. Me and Balthazar are going ahead.”

“Going ahead?” Bal asked, “Both of us? I thought secret weapons were supposed to kept secret.”

Gabriel tilted his head. “I said I'm awesome. Not that you were right.” Balthazar and Castiel both looked confused, but the older brother looked off into the distance and over to the Winchesters. “We need to hurry.”

Dean nodded and began to walk with Sam by his side, Cas reluctantly following behind. Gabriel glanced over to Balthazar and they both vanished in a small gust of wind.

Several minutes passed as the group followed after Lucifer's trail and the silence over the area became more and more haunting. From the opposite direction the boys were heading, black smoke started to crawl over the walls of the bunker and four angels with bloody anti-detection sigils etched into their skin walked around the side of the building.

The different smoke lines circled the structure, faster and faster, until frustration made them rotate in place at not being able to find a way in through the wards. But Gabriel and Balthazar had been allowed in. One of the angels pressed against the door, still warm from a human's touch, but discovered it to be locked. Another rammed into it and slammed the thick, heavy door to the ground.

The smoke quickly billowed in first, the angels walking much more cautiously behind them. The black smoke flew through the hallways, finally finding the angel wards and slamming into each one, cracking the walls and erasing the ink. The angels began to move swiftly, staying close to the smoke as all of the sigils broke apart around them, finally coming to the storage room. The smoke rammed the door in and went around the room in a flurry, scattering trinkets and papers everywhere to get all of the sigils destroyed, but there was a confusion. What they were looking for wasn't there.

One of the angels stalked forward to the far wall, placing her hand against the cabinets. “There's more wards,” she muttered to the others. “Behind this wall. There's more.”

The smoke circled in place, finding they were unable to get into this room and the angel growled in frustration.

Another one stepped forward, a man, and he placed his hand over the cabinet as well. “She's back there,” he said to the others, “I can sense her faintly... The walls must be made of this flimsy material. We'll just break it apart and collapse it all.”

A younger man frowned. “Lucifer said to keep the heretic alive,” he argued, “He can't have Balthazar without her.”

It was the first woman who turned to him angrily. “You're on Lucifer's side?” The young one didn't stay anything and the last girl remained quiet beside him. The woman stepped back from the wall, along with the other male. “We've come here to destroy the heretic. Not win Lucifer's war. We'll crush her with or without your help.”

The smoke began to circle erratically before it quickly left the room, likely to tell their master. The man looked at the other angels. “Hurry!” he ordered and began to put pressure along the walls and the next room. The others joined in, but their work was slow with the sigils in place.

Eventually, the metal of the small dungeon began to creak deeply and bend slightly against the warping. The light burst into sparks and the walls groaned as if they wanted to buckle. The sliding door to the dungeon shook, rattling loudly, but most of the sigils still held in place.

With a slight twitch and a jolt, Catherine's eyes opened to the darkness, the echoing roar of thunder surrounding her.

 


	39. Lightning

Displacement was a horrible thing to experience.

Catherine blinked, trying to see in the darkness and still not moving from her spot. Her first thought upon feeling no pain at all was that she must be dead. Then she realized that she was breathing and figured that maybe she wasn't. She blinked again, her eyes beginning to adjust, but instead of seeing a starry sky overhead like she predicted, it was a ceiling with a big white sigil going around the four corners of the small room. She was inside of a room... and that sound wasn't thunder.

Cat slowly leaned up to a better sitting position, looking around at the metal walls. More sigils in several colors and... the sound was definitely not thunder. It was the groaning of something else. Of-... Of the walls around her...

She began to glance around the room, realizing she was on a mattress and the floor beneath her had a big devil's trap that she recognized. She knew where she was. This was the Men of Letter's dungeon... and she was the one trapped in it now.

The walls suddenly creaked louder and she heard something not too far away loudly bang against something else. What the hell was going on? Why did they trap her in here? What had happened to Michael and Lucifer? What had happened to the graces?... Were the sigils in place to keep something out? She looked above her again and recognized some of the scribbles from the anti-detection wards she was taught. It was Enochian. They were keeping her away from angels... Angels.

Something loud echoed that sounded like a strong banister snapping somewhere and Catherine stood. It was angels they were protecting her from and it must have been angels trying to get in. How would they get this far into the bunker? Where were the others? What the hell was going on? She nearly tripped over her bag as she backed away in a panic... Someone thought ahead at least and she wondered if it had been Balthazar... But how did the angels get here? Maybe her friends were off somewhere else hunting down the archangels. Maybe they just weren't here. Or maybe they were dead...

She unzipped the bag, praying for a note or something, but only found the contents she had packed into that thing herself. Thankfully, that included an angel blade... Except she was still trapped. Catherine looked up to the entrance, the cabinets that were acting as a door buckling and shaking violently. The angels either sought to crush the room around her or get inside and kill her. She couldn't just wait around and find out... There was no telling how many were out there fighting against so many wards.

Cat stood and held the blade levelly in front of her. Close combat was not her style at all, but Balthazar had taught her what he had known. He seemed like he was good at it. She just had to do what he had said and stay focused... and run as soon as she got the chance. Finding the others alive was the goal here. She could figure out everything else later...

After a deep breath, she ran and slammed her body against a weak spot in the entrance, barreling through suddenly and stabbing the first person she saw through the stomach. The woman gaped back at her in shock, but burst into light and fell. Catherine lashed around and cut another angel's throat before he could unsheathe his blade. She didn't wait around for the light show. She could see at least two more angels coming towards her, swords drawn, and she ran.

Catherine flew out of the door, her body suddenly feeling stiff and slow, but she ran down the hallway as quickly as she could, noticing the broken sigils along the walls.

“Don't be dead,” she muttered to herself, “Don't be-”

Someone grabbed her arm and she almost shrieked, but quickly stabbed him in the chest, too, once making sure he wasn't a friend. The first thing she noticed was that he hesitated to attack. The second thing she noticed was the black eyes. She watched him fall, but by that point one of the angels had caught up to her.

* * *

“You're not as scared as you should be,” Lucifer purred, watching Balthazar closely. It was only the two of them standing in a barely lit parking lot, some place that was a bit further away than originally thought. The Winchesters would just have to move a bit quicker... Or maybe that was part of the plan.

This grand scheme was starting to piss him off considering he hadn't been let in on it.

However, the reason why was a bit obvious as Satan furrowed his brow. “You're not alone, obviously,” he continued to speak, “but you're confident about whomever you're with...” Lucifer snorted. “I wonder who that could be.” His hand reached out and caught hold of Gabriel's wrist. “Well, if it isn't the Greyjoy.”

As Lucifer turned to face him, Gabe frowned. “You caught that reference?”

“Shut up,” he sighed, before twisting his brother around and throwing him into Balthazar.

The two fell hard to the ground, the younger of the two pushing the other off as quickly as he could. “That was your big plan?” Bal yelled and tried to get to his feet, but Lucifer was standing over the two of them.

Satan wrapped his hand around Balthazar's neck. “No, no,” he told him, “Gabby's better than that. It's why you're not dead yet... But I'm stronger.”

Bal's hands wrapped his brother's wrist, hoping Lucifer wouldn't burst him into flames, when Gabriel stood up beside him. “Yeah!” he shouted, “Well-!” He suddenly leaped forward and tackled the devil like an American football player. The surprise worked, though. Lucifer doubled over with an _oomf_ and fell back, but he quickly turned and threw Gabriel off of him again, the younger one slamming his back hard against the pavement.

Satan gasped for breath for a second or so and tilted his head. “Really?” He glanced over to Balthazar, who was standing now but only to back off a bit. “He kills Michael, you vow to protect him anyway, and then you  _tackle_ me? Really?”

“So maybe I'm running out of ideas,” Gabriel gasped out, rolling on to his side and holding up a hand. “But we're still alive, so maybe my ideas are working.”

Lucifer closed his eyes and shook his head. “Gabriel, the only reason you two are alive right now is because I'm letting you. I want your help to overthrow this nonsense. I  _know_ you loved Michael.”

“I loved you, too,” the other answered, going to his knees and then his feet again, “But you two are nuts. I'm not all for the mass genocide, brother. Yeah, Balthazar killed Michael, but it wasn't because he had other choices in the matter.”

“Other choices?” Lucifer glanced over to Bal, who only stood his ground. “Michael was going to kill his human whore. Oh no, whatever shall we do?”

Gabe shook his head. “He was going to destroy her soul,” he said seriously, “It's way different and you know it. That's not what we're about. It's not even what you're about.”

“No, brother, I'm not about destroying them,” Lucifer growled back, “I'm about making them suffer. To show what they really are to all of you idiots and to prove that I am right! Besides... He loves them more than us, Gabriel. I want them to hurt so that I can make Him hurt. You can't tell me there's no beauty in that.”

“You're a dick,” Balthazar finally spoke up and Lucifer blinked before looking over to him. He looked shocked, so Bal repeated himself. “You're a spoiled _dick_. I can't have Daddy's love, so no one can. Do you know what that sounds like?”

“Balthazar.” Lucifer spoke in a low tone and shifted his jaw. “Shut up.”

Bal flew back and hit hard against the ground but didn't move to get up. He grunted in pain as well, but it couldn't have been too terrible. “That tickles, Luci,” he growled out between clinched teeth.

Lucifer hardly paid him any mind. He just looked back to Gabriel. “I'm going to kill him,” he told his younger brother. “It's going to be slow and it's going to be very painful, but before I do that, I'm going to get back that soul you likely hid away somewhere and make him watch her suffer and be destroyed, too.”

Balthazar grunted from the ground. “ _Original._ ”

Gabriel glanced over to him with a tired smile, knowing full well the thought of all those threats were terrifying for him. Then he looked over to his older brother and squared his shoulders. “No, you're not.”

“Yes,” he said with full conviction and belief, “I am.”

A gunshot echoed over the area, making dogs bark from far away and for Lucifer to look down at his chest. There was a small hole right where his vessel's heart was where a bright light shined through. He clicked his tongue, feeling a burning sting and turned around to face his would-be killer. During the shock of being shot through the back, it seemed that his hold on Balthazar had gone down as well.

Castiel stood there with the gun raised level, but he still shifted on his feet. He could see Gabriel give him a confused look from behind the devil, obviously currently unarmed or he would have taken the opportunity. Cas just shifted some more and glanced to his brother still on the ground, not bothering to get to his feet yet, but just watching for what would happen.

“Castiel,” Lucifer groaned, “Did you just try to shoot me and assume that it would work?”

“I knew it wouldn't work,” Cas shrugged, “but I thought it would hurt more than that.”

“You're going to hurt more than that,” he growled back.

Gabriel scoffed from behind him and muttered under his breath. “Wow, good comeback.” He shot another look to Castiel, wondering if the Winchesters were hiding somewhere close by, but the younger angel looked too tense for that...

“Shut up,” Lucifer said again from over his shoulder.

Balthazar watched them do a back and forth... He knew that Gabriel was stalling for more time, but Lucifer wasn't taking advantage of it. He stood by with witty banter and threats by his side. Were there reinforcements arriving? Why didn't Gabe look more worried?

Then, he heard it. Bal's head snapped around and he left, abandoning his brothers in a flourish of wings.

Gabriel and Castiel, both suddenly shocked, looked to where Balthazar had been and waited for him to reappear. Time ticked by slowly and Lucifer sighed to them both. “I wouldn't worry,” he told them, “He's already too late.”

Cas' eyes widened. “The bunker. But we-”

Gabriel lurched forward again, pushing against the older archangel before diving to the ground for his blade. This was getting serious now.

* * *

Catherine's feet pounded against the floor as she ran as hard as she could. Her jacket was gone – the extra fabric immediately becoming a liability after one of them had torn it to shreds – and she had a good bit of blood splattered across her. Miraculously, none of it was her own. Though, the really bad part about all of this is that she never could get very far every time she went in a different direction.

Once she tried hiding and sneaking away, but there were too many of them. Cat wasn't able to stay in one place for more than thirty seconds before someone ran across her.

Why were there so many of them? Why were angels and demons working together? Where were the others?

She couldn't even make it to the garage. Calling out for someone would only attract more attention her way than she already had. She even considered praying to Gabriel once or twice, but her own thoughts were either not working or he wasn't listening. It was probably the former since she kept getting panicked and distracted... That's the one she would like it to be, at least.

But this was just becoming worse. The longer she was in the bunker, the more of them that were after her. How did they even get in? Her panic was increasing by the second and she quickly glanced around as much as she could while running. Looking for signs of a body or blood or a fight or anything. It was like they had just left her there.

A demon quickly ran out from the corner ahead of her and charged, forcing Catherine to stop running and fight, stabbing him as fast as she could in the chest. The demon fell to the ground just as another began running for her and she cursed, not having enough time to pull the blade free.

She abandoned it and started running in the opposite direction, once again just going back over her same trails and ending up nowhere, except this time without a weapon.

After running back into the main room, which was apparently a big mistake, an angel grabbed her arm and twisted her body around until Cat's back was pressed against the wall. The angel didn't say anything. He only looked to be very angry and not hesitating his chance with any pleasantries. His other arm held his own blade and he had pulled back to plunge it into her and Catherine panicked. Gabriel couldn't hear her prayers. They were gone or dead or- Again, she thought of the only person that she really could count on, but instead of thinking on any of the good times she had with him or the funny or sweet or even annoying times, she only remembered how she had failed him and the last time she had seen him.

“ _Balthazar_.”

A powerful wind fell across her, the sound of wings echoing in the halls, and the other angel was exploding into light before she could even figure out what was happening. Someone had placed himself between them and quickly tossed the angel across the room. She knew him – recognized him – but he had killed two of the demons closest before he stopped fighting and stood protectively in front of her. She blinked up to him, mind stalling for the moment.

The angels and demons had stopped the chase and just stood, watching for movements from the new enemy. Balthazar stood in front of their target now, practically growling for them to come a hair closer. All it took was for one of them to turn tail and run before others joined in, but some stayed behind and stood their ground before darting forward in a charge.

Balthazar rushed forward and took them out as they came, never allowing himself to get overwhelmed. It was easy and fluid. He would just touch some of them and they'd burst into light and fall dead. He could vanish when he liked. He had his wings back – his grace – and he destroyed everyone threatening him. He was okay. Her plan had worked and he was okay. Her legs wanted to give out beneath her with relief and shock.

The last of them was dead quickly enough and the bunker was silent, the ones that had ran off were long gone. He waited a moment in case someone was lurking around until finally turning to see if Catherine was all right. She stared back to him, leaning against the wall like she would fall without it, completely alive. The moment threatened to take his breath away, but his legs moved without him and he was quickly approaching her, dropping the sword in his hands to their feet.

“Are you all right?” he asked with a raspy voice, hands just hovering over the sides of her face, hesitant to actually touch her.

All Catherine could do for the moment was nod, just staring up at him. “You have your grace,” she eventually muttered, but realized that wasn't what needed to be said. “Bal.”

“Do you remember anything?” he followed up quickly, his eyes quickly glancing over her body just in case she was hurt and didn't notice. His hands moved to her shoulders, lightly touching her.

Cat's brow furrowed and she blinked to him. “I-... I remember... leaving. And Lucifer. Michael... Bal-”

“You don't remember after that? You don't remember-” He stopped, wondering if she even realized she had been dead, but just shook his head before she could get a word in. “No, it's fine. It's fine. You're back. You're okay-”

“ _Bal_.” She stressed his name, finally getting him to stop and look to her. “I made a deal with him,” she finally got out one of the many things she wanted to say, “I made a deal with Lucifer. I-”

He just started nodding. “I know. I know. I know what happened. We didn't get there in time, but we found the graces. We figured out the rest-”

“No, Bal,” she shook her head, distraught and trying to step a little closer to him. Perhaps she was right about the whole line between humanity and angel thing. Maybe he didn't care like he did before. “ _I'm sorry_ ,” she finally got out, “I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have gone to him. I wanted to help you. I wanted to get your grace back, but I'm sorry I did it like that. I promised you, Bal. I'm so sorry...”

Cat slowly stopped speaking, because he had stopped moving. Balthazar stared back to her, frozen in place like he couldn't believe what she was saying and that made her want to start screaming it at him. She worried away at what he was going to do or say, but he just didn't move for a long, terrible moment, until he quickly reached forward and wrapped her in a tight hug.

One of his hands tangled into her hair and she felt his kisses on the top of her head. “It's all right,” he murmured to her, soft and warm like he used to. “You're back. Everything's okay now. Everything's okay.”

Still confused, Catherine just buried her face into his chest, questions and doubts going around her mind. A lot of things had happened since her deal with Lucifer, that was apparent enough. Yet, even after gaining his grace back, he still seemed to feel the same. He just... probably didn't want to or something. There were too many things happening at once, but he was still holding on to her, so she stayed quiet in his arms.

Bal only held her tighter, trying to relish the moment and think on what to do. He could find a safe place to put her since the enemy obviously wanted their hands on her and he could go back to Gabriel to fight. Or he could whisk them both away to safety and abandon his brothers rather than abandon her. He knew what he should choose, but he also knew which one he would regret more if things went badly.

He tilted his head lower, his lips lightly moving over her temple. “It's too dangerous here,” he murmured, “Michael's dead and Lucifer's seeking vengeance. He'll skin you alive if he got his hands on you.”

Michael was dead. How in they hell were they able to kill him? “Did I die?”

His eyes closed. “It doesn't matter. You're here now.” Bal took a steadying breath and inched away from her to see her eyes. “You can't stay here. I need to go back to Gabriel, but I have to get you to safety-”

“No.” The opposition nearly shocked him, but she only looked insulted. “No, I'm not leaving you to fight against the freaking devil. I'm not a damsel in distress! Well... I'm not usually, but I'm not _weak_ , either!”

“I know,” he said sternly, hands brushing against her cheeks, “I know... But you can't stay here. I won't let you. I'm not doing that again.”

“Balthazar, you can't go back to all of that fighting by yourse-”

“I'm not. Doing that. _Again_.” He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but it at least managed to make her stop arguing for the moment. “Do you understand?” he asked, knowing full well that she couldn't. “You're going somewhere far away from here. Somewhere safe. That's it... I will not go through losing you again, you understand?”

She still didn't answer him, a bit shocked by the sudden emotion – the determination he gave off. It didn't matter what she told him, because she had hurt him once already and he refused to be hurt again. “... Balthazar,” she breathed out his name and bit the edge of her lip, “I failed you-”

“Stop.” He shook his head, refusing to hear it. “Stop apologizing. You're here. Nothing else matters so long as you _stay_ here, all right? I'll keep you safe. I'll handle everything.”

“I love you.” He froze again, like he was wondering if he heard right and she wondered if saying that was a mistake or not. “I failed you. I should have told you. I shouldn't have left. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, but I love you... I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry.” She forced her mouth closed, otherwise she would just continue to apologize like he already told her to stop doing. But he didn't move. He didn't jump forward to hold her like before. He just remained still like that and the anxiety came back. “Bal...”

She noticed him blink, his eyes shifting just a bit, right before he kissed her. He pushed her back hard against the wall and she couldn't help but wonder if this was the proper time or place. However, Balthazar just as quickly pulled away, touching his forehead with hers. “Sorry,” he said breathless, but his eyes locked with hers and stayed that way. She stopped wondering about what the rest of the world was doing, but still didn't move to kiss him again as much as she wanted to. He still loved her. The knowledge was enough.

It almost seemed like he was about to smile, but bit his lip instead and pulled away from her completely, breaking the eye contact. “I need to get you somewhere safe.”

Catherine's eyes darted behind him and Balthazar flinched at the sudden drop in temperature, but turned to face the threat anyway.

“Now hold your horses, Romeo,” Lucifer said tiredly, waving one of his red hands and blood splattered his face, “She's not going anywhere.” With a twist of his hand, Bal flew several feet away into the steps of the library, screaming in pain. “I'm not Michael,” Satan said, approaching Catherine, “I don't play with my food.”

She looked to Balthazar as he gasped in pain while she tried to decide quickly on what to do. With little time to act, Cat finally just lunged for Lucifer, but he easily took her from the air and twisted them both around before her back slammed into the floor.

“Then again,” he growled, his hand suddenly wrapped around her throat, “I have been waiting for this. Look sharp, Balthy!”

Balthazar could only look at the two, paralyzed. He wanted to scream at how fast everything was happening. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. She looked terrified and he could do nothing. Again. Over and over again. “ _No!_ ”

Another gunshot rang out, but this time Lucifer stiffened and collapsed. Catherine gasped for air and quickly scrambled to get out from underneath him.

“Move!” Dean screamed, running in the room with the Colt in his hand still aimed for the devil, his younger brother right behind him.

Cat quickly did as told, gaining her feet long enough to run to Balthazar. He was breathing hard, watching Lucifer in shock, but his hands still grasped her when Cat was close enough.

Dean looked over to them and made sure the gun was loaded for the fifteenth time since he got his hands on it. “He won't stay down long,” he said, nodding to Balthazar.

Before he could say anything else, wings sounded next to them. Gabriel stood watching Lucifer, blood across him as well, as Castiel yanked the gun from Dean's grip. “We're staying,” he said, looking to Bal, “Get them out of here.”

Dean looked offended about the gun for a second, but then blinked in confusion. “Them?”

Balthazar began to stand while Cat held on to him. “We can help,” she tried reasoning, “You guys can't just do this on your own. This is crazy.”

He looked down to her, pulling on her arm to get her to her feet. “I handled Michael on my own.”

She stared at him. “... You what?”

Dean just looked around. “Why did he say _them_? Give me back the damn gun.”

Balthazar ignored him and gripped on to Catherine's hand. “Hold on.”

She heard his wings – even could be fooled into thinking that she felt them against her – and suddenly she was much warmer, the ocean at her ears and sand beneath her feet. While she only watched Balthazar, Dean twisted around, looking at the tiny island in the broad daylight with nothing but clear ocean surrounding the three of them. “What the hell?” he screamed, “You don't kick me out of the damn fight!”

Bal still ignored him, watching Cat shake her head. “Don't go. Don't do this.”

“I must. I told you why,” he replied sternly, “I'll be back for you both when it's done.” She still looked scared, so he continued. “I'll be okay. I won't die... I won't do that to you.”

Slowly, her worry turned into determination. Cat closed her eyes for a long moment before looking to him again. “Swear.”

He leaned forward and placed a lasting kiss on her forehead until he slowly moved away. “I swear.” His wings beat against the ground, stirring up the sand, and he was gone.

Dean looked at her, to the ocean, and back to her. “This is bullshit!”

 


	40. Swan Song

When Balthazar returned to the bunker, Gabriel was slumped against a wall and Lucifer was gone. Castiel, obviously jumpy, nearly shot his brother at the sound of his wings but managed to stop just short. Bal ignored him and looked around at the scene.

“What happened?” he asked Cas and Sam, the two left standing, “Where's Gabriel's sword?”

Sam fidgeted in place, holding on to his own angel sword tightly. “Gabriel tried to jump him while he was still down, but it didn't really work out. He vanished.”

“Vanished?” Balthazar spat, “Vanish to where? I can't sense him!”

Castiel glanced over tensely, like he was reading his brother's thoughts. “He didn't follow you,” he managed to say, “He's still here. He's just... trying to scare us.”

Sam shook his head. “I'm starting to think this is a terrible idea.”  
  
“Agreed,” Bal nodded, “You shouldn't be here either.”

Cas looked between them both. “Gabriel said he needs to be.”

“Gabriel,” his brother pointed out, waving an arm, “is knocked unconscious against a wall right now!”

At the same moment, the archangel slumped forward a bit, closing his eyes tightly and shaking his head. “It's important,” he said, a hand going to his aching head, “Where'd he go?”

Bal rolled his eyes. “I thought _I_ was the bait,” he said, ignoring his older brother's question, “You want his rightful vessel prancing around, too?”

“It's important,” Gabriel said again, slowly moving back to his feet. “Just trust me, dammit-”

He stopped speaking suddenly, confusing the others until they heard it, too. Something far off in the bunker slamming. Another sounded closer a few seconds after the first, and then the main door near them lifted from the floor where the angels had broken it down and fell into its place, sealing them in. Hardly a second later, the power failed, plunging them into darkness before the red generator lights dully began to glow.

Sam tried to glance around, knowing that he and Castiel were going to be at a heavy disadvantage if Lucifer was toying with their power systems. “That's not spooky at all.”

“He's just trying to freak us out,” Gabriel grumbled, pushing himself off of the wall. “We stick together.”

Balthazar groaned. “Trusting you has paid off wonderfully so fa-” He glanced over to Gabriel, suddenly seeing no one there and he grimaced. “Oh, that's the most hypocritical thing you've ever done, Gabby!”

Castiel looked over worriedly. “He has a plan. I'm sure-” He turned to one side to see his brother and to the other side to see no one. “Sam?”

Balthazar looked pass Cas, noticing that Sam was gone, too. The human couldn't just vanish like that, which meant Gabriel didn't leave of his own choosing either. He glanced around the room, beginning to panic, until he turned to face forward again and he seemed to be the last remaining one in the room.

“Cas!”

* * *

Catherine's plain brown eyes watched the clouds roll in between her and the bright sun, a few palm leaves threatening to distort her view. Sand and grass had more than likely already mingled with her hair, but at least she didn't have to worry about any of the cuts or bruises she gained while running from her earlier attackers. They were all found to be mysteriously gone.

Her lips moved slowly with a breathless whisper and the nearby waves accompanying them. It was a tune that had ironically been stuck in her head since she first woke in the dungeon. It and the thoughts her little song carried with it were enough of a distraction for the current time. She paused for a moment, listening to the waves, before starting on another verse. “I'll... fly away, oh glory. I'll... fly away... When I die hallelujah by and by... I'll fly away...”

“Can you please just help me?” Dean's voice yelled over to her and she turned her head to find him standing on the beach, looking extremely distraught.

“Doing what, Dean?” she asked, glancing around, “You want to build a raft and paddle back to Kansas?”

He predictably rolled his eyes with much more exaggeration than was needed. “It was your boyfriend that plopped us here. Maybe a few sexy prayers or something?”

“Sexy prayers isn't going to make him come back any quicker,” she sighed, turning her head to look back to the sky again, “You know him better than that.”

“So what?” Dean continued, walking into her sun with his shoulders lifted, “You just gonna sit here and get a tan instead? Why in the hell are you cool with this?”

“I'm not _cool_ with it,” she groaned, “but I know that raising my blood pressure isn't going to help either.”

He pointed at her as if he were about to start a lecture but paused and just turned away instead, effectively getting out of her sun. “Why isn't he back yet?” Dean continued on, “How long does it take to kill the devil?”

“You would know that better than I would, from what I hear,” she answered him, watching the last of the clouds begin to roll away. “What I don't get is why they brought you here and not Sam... unless they plan to do something about all that vessel business.”

Dean stopped pacing back to the beach and quickly turned back around. “You know about that?”

Cat rolled her eyes. “I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Balthazar has a tendency to talk a lot. Of course I know, Dean. Fighting against them doesn't work out well if you don't know the history.”

“Well,” Dean scoffed, but held his tongue on any sarcastic comment for the moment, “I don't why they kept him there, all right?”

Catherine watched the sky, thinking on his answer, before furrowing her brow and looking to him again. “Yes, you do.” Dean stopped pacing quickly enough, so she sat up from the ground. “You would have thrown a tantrum about Sam instead of Lucifer if you didn't know what was going on... Actually, you know everything that happened since I apparently died, so maybe we can waste time with a little history lesson.” The Winchester shifted a bit and looked to the ground, so she decided to continue if he wasn't going to. “I don't even know how long I was gone for,” she thought aloud, “I just woke up in your dungeon with angels trying to kill me, so I started running through the bunker for my life wondering if everyone was dead or not.”

“You don't have to play the guilt trip card, you know,” Dean grumbled, finally looking over to her, “Sorry if I'm not all shocked by Lady Lazarus over here, but we knew you were going to wake up eventually and Gabriel figured that Lucifer might try something to get your soul back. Balthazar kinda... pissed him off, to say the least. It was mine and Sammy's fault that we didn't double back to you quicker.”

Her brow furrowed. “My soul?”

Dean blinked to her and slowly nodded, shifting his legs. “It's uh... kind of a long story. I'll admit, I don't know the whole thing. Balthazar kinda... flipped out and did his own thing.” Catherine furrowed her brow to that, but he ignored it. “Anyway, you were dead and they couldn't find your soul to bring you back. Needless to say, they eventually did.”

“Bring me back?” She looked to the ground and crossed her legs, confused. “Are you saying that was the idea from the get go? What happened to Balthazar?”

The Winchester tilted his head and shifted again. “All right, you know what?” he sighed before walking over and sitting down next to her, “Maybe story time isn't a bad idea.”

* * *

Balthazar stalked down a hallway, only having the red glow to light his path for him. He couldn't sense anyone and quickly found that he couldn't zap anywhere, either. He was trapped here, blind. Thankfully, it hadn't been that long ago that he had been forced to get used to this by his self-imposed humanity, but it definitely bothered him since he couldn't see Lucifer or Catherine now. He could be after her for all he knew, but it wasn't all that likely. Why split them up if he was just going to leave? No, she had to be safe now.

His feet still moved quietly over the tiles, just in case something were to leap out at him. He was armed with a blade resting tightly in his hand as Bal glanced around every corner. The light didn't go into some of the rooms, so some areas were just pitch black with the occasional limb of a dead body poking out of the darkness. Likely one of Catherine's kills before she had prayed for him... He may have felt a bit too much pride over that.

For now, Balthazar stayed away from the dark corners and continued on his search to find a familiar and, hopefully, friendly face. Except there was a tenseness in the air that he couldn't shake, even with his grace completely returned to him. For once in his life, there was a fear there for himself that wasn't one bred from selfish desires. It actually made him draw on caution and second guessing, rather than abandonment and manipulation. No, he didn't aim to experience death again, but that wasn't even the full issue here. He knew what it felt like to have lost her and he didn't want Cat to feel what he had felt. He wouldn't break his vow to her.

A sound from behind him made Bal leap around violently. Despite the odds, he aimed to stab the visitor before seeing who it was, but Castiel parried his blade with his own before furrowing his brow. “... Balthazar?”

“Cas,” Bal sighed and let down his guard a fraction. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Apologies,” his brother said, blinking and looking around, “I can hardly see at all. I didn't know who you were.”

Balthazar grabbed his brother's shoulder, steering him down the hall that he was just walking around. “If I were Lucifer, you'd be dead. You should strike a little better than that.”

“I know,” Cas grumbled, “but you weren't Lucifer and I would have killed you instead.”

Bal scoffed. “No, you wouldn't have.”

As they passed by a door, a shuffling sound came from the darkness and they both halted, raising their blades to the doorway. Balthazar squinted his eyes, trying to see a bit better while Castiel was about to call out a threat or something, but the shadow grew larger and out stepped Sam Winchester.

Cas noticeably relaxed. “Sam,” he gave a relieved sigh, “Now we just need to-”

Balthazar raised his arm in front of his brother, separating the two of them, but _Sam_ hadn't stepped any closer. The Winchester looked between the two angels seriously and Bal watched him for a long moment. “Who are you? How did you get here?”

The other didn't answer, but Cas grew worried. “Um... Balthazar. That is Sam Winchester.”

“No, it's not,” he answered, half turning his head to his brother, but not looking away. “It's an angel... One I've never seen before.”

“That's impossible,” Castiel argued, looking back to Sam with scrutiny, but didn't say anything further. It was possible that Lucifer could be putting hallucinations on them, but with Sam standing there and Balthazar seeing someone else, that would be a difficult and confusing thing to pull off.

“Who are you?” Balthazar asked again, keeping his blade raised and taking a tiny step forward.

The angel tilted his head back, locking his jaw. “I am Ezekiel.”

Cas furrowed his brow. “Ezekiel?” he asked confused, “You healed Sam months ago.”

“You're not Ezekiel,” Bal growled. “I know him and I know he died in the fall. Who are you?”

Castiel's face fell, looking to his brother before back to this unknown angel. Ezekiel was never there to begin with?

Balthazar took one more step forward. “I will not ask again.”

“Gadreel,” he finally spat out. “My name is Gadreel.” The others stalled, so he took that precious time to try explaining. “Dean Winchester helped me to possess Sam so that I could heal him properly. I did not have enough strength by any other method. He would have died... Gabriel, Dean, and Sam are all aware of my presence.”

“Gabriel?” Bal muttered out, blinking up to him. “You truly expect me to believe that he knows you're walking on this Earth? That asshole has his faults, but _you_ -”

Castiel stared to him, interrupting Balthazar's rant. “You're helping Lucifer.”

Bal's face fell at the realization and Gadreel looked between them, shocked at the accusation. “He tricked me when I allowed him into the garden. He made promises that I should have known better of the loop holes he intended to make. I would _never_ side with him.”

Balthazar shook his head. “You've been locked in Heaven's dungeons for as long as I remember,” he growled, “You definitely have the motive to turn on Heaven and finished what you started here.”

“No, brother,” Gadreel shook his head furiously, “You have me wrong. I've only ever tried to do the right thing. My intentions are pure, I assure you.”

“The right thing?” Bal asked, feeling his temper slip and not caring in the least. “You caused everything. _Everything!_ You're to blame for all of this!”

“No,” he tried to defend himself, shaking his head again, “I had no intention of doing any of this! Besides, there's been good come of it, too. I've seen it in Cath-”

Balthazar leaped towards him so fast that Castiel hardly had time to hold his brother back. Gadreel jumped into the darkness again, but stood still as he noticed that his attacker was being restrained, admittedly by a weak human who could easily be pushed aside if the angry angel saw fit.

“Speak her name again,” Balthazar growled through clenched teeth, “and I'll slit your throat.”

“Balthazar,” Castiel tried to chime in reasonably, “Gabriel must have known about him. He wanted Sam to stay for a reason. This has to be why.”

“We can blame it on Lucifer,” Bal argued back.

Cas only shook his head. “I won't allow you to kill him, brother,” he sighed, “Not yet... He may be the only thing keeping Lucifer away from Sam at this point.”

“Or the only thing letting him in,” Bal growled.

Gadreel only stood there, watching the two and holding his own blade tightly against his back, hoping beyond hope that they wouldn't attack again. Trying to explain to Gabriel why his allies were dead and he was the only witness would not go well. It wasn't like the archangel actually trusted him either.

A tense moment passed between the three of them until Balthazar ripped his arm from his brother's grip. Gadreel jumped at the sudden movement, but went still again to make sure their guards were sufficiently down.

They didn't look like they would kill him anymore, but it was foolish to believe they would let their guard down around him now. Gadreel swallowed. “Truly, brothers,” he said lowly, trying to be calm, “I meant no ill will. I simply want to set things right.”

Neither of them changed in expression at all. Balthazar still seemed extremely angry while Castiel was only incredibly skeptical. His chances of surviving while with the two of them now that they were aware of the truth had dropped considerably from the beginning of all this. He could not stay around them and live.

Quickly, while neither of them were poised to attack, Gadreel ran back into the darkness, letting his hands and ears guide the way as he did before.

Balthazar jumped forward to follow, but Castiel again held him back. “We need to stay together!” he screamed out to them both, but Gadreel was gone so he had to only look to his remaining brother. “Neither of us can see in that dark, not with Lucifer controlling things.”

Bal turned back to him with a growl. “I don't think you realize how much he's controlling here.”

“We need to find Gabriel,” Cas argued in return, “Gadreel is weak and the archangel must have noticed him long before now-”

“He would have told us!” Bal barked, moving around his brother to walk back into the hallway and the red glow.

“Would he?” the other asked him sarcastically, “You just tried to kill him. If Gabriel found him to be an asset, then I can see why he wouldn't tell either of us.”

Balthazar scoffed and looked back to Cas. “So you're agreeing with him? With this apparent plan that he hasn't spoken a damn word about?”

“No,” Castiel answered, “I simply understand. I'm far from agreeing.”

“Good,” Bal sighed, “Then you can hold him down while I beat the shit out of him.”

His brother groaned, something that was very uncharacteristic of Cas on a usual day. “That's what Lucifer wants. For us to turn on ourselves. He's probably planned all of this. We need to stay focused, Balthazar. Not let anger drive us.”

“I'm not letting _anger_ drive me, Cas,” Bal argued, “It's something more like fear and burning hatred.”

“You don't fear me.” Bal closed his eyes and stopped walking for a second to look at his brother. Castiel swallowed a lump in his throat and continued. “You don't hate and fear me. Who here has hurt you worse than I have?”

“Lucifer,” he answered honestly, “for manipulating and killing her. Gabriel for falsely gaining her trust. Oh and Gadreel for making her suffer with this hell we call life since long before I've crossed her path-”

“She is safe,” Cas interrupted. “She is far away from here. What about _you_ , Balthazar? You're the one trapped in here, so we need to calm down and make sure he doesn't win. Not with these stupid tricks and half-truths. There's a bigger evil and if you let him manipulate you with your love, then she will never be safe again.” Bal took a deep breath, but didn't answer or make any retort. Castiel took it as a good sign and nodded. “We need to find Gabriel.”

Suddenly, a blast rang out next to them and the archangel himself, bloody and pressed against the wall. Cas had jumped back at the sound, but Balthazar merely flinched and said, “Found him,” as he glanced about for an attacker.

Gabriel leaned forward off of the wall, holding on to his chest like it was injured. “It was Lucifer,” he told the other two, “I only saw him for a second-”

“This is his plan,” Cas quickly said and look between them both. “We need to calm down and think rational-”

Balthazar held up a hand and turned to the archangel. “You knew about Gadreel.”

Gabriel looked to him in shock. “I-... Buuh... Who?”

“You son of a bitch! He could have killed us all if the mood struck him!”

“Yeah, but it didn't!” Gabe argued back, “I trust him to try and set things right. This is Luci's fault. All Gadreel is guilty of is being gullible.”

“I'm sorry to tell you this, Gabriel,” Bal sneared, “but your older brother is a better salesman than you are. We're all screwed. _Everyone_ is screwed, because you just had to try and play redemption.”

“Well, what would you have done?” Gabriel asked, annoyed. “Killed him?” Balthazar shrugged and Gabe starting shaking his head. “Stupid question. Cas! Come on, man. You're all about second chances.”

Castiel frowned and looked over to Balthazar before nodding. “For his transgressions on humanity and the unspeakable crimes he's had a part in, I would have had him killed... I'm sorry, Gabriel.”

Gabe slowly looked between both of his brothers, only earning resolved looks, before becoming angry. “Well, neither of you are archangels, are you?”

Bal shifted his jaw. “Because you've done such a good job?”

Castiel could practically see his elder brother's anger get stronger as he approached Balthazar. “Did you already forget what I did for you? For her?” Gabriel asked heatedly, “I didn't have to do anything.”

Balthazar clenched his teeth. “By the time I would have been done with you, you wouldn't have had any other choice.”

“No one makes us do anything,” Gabe hissed back, “Least of all, a broken angel.”

Castiel only just managed to squeeze between his two brothers before Balthazar acted on his anger. “He wants us to do this,” he argued to them both, “He wants us divided and fighting amongst ourselves. It's the only chance he's got. Don't give it to him!”

For the most part, the two listened and backed away from each other a bit, but Bal still raised his chin. “We can't trust Gadreel. He's too much of a risk, not to mention a liability.”

Gabe titled his head. “Don't trust him cause he's working with Lucifer or me?”

“Both.”

Cas shut his eyes and shook his head. “Brothers, please. Don't-”

Balthazar cut off Castiel's words when he suddenly reached around him, pinning something to the wall. Cas ducked and moved away, finding that his brother had Lucifer by the neck.

Satan smirked to all of them and raised his hands. “Sorry,” he chuckled, “Just wanted a better view to figure out if you were acting out a fight or not.”

Bal shrugged. “Didn't really have to act.”

The other smirked again, but glanced over to find Gabriel had stepped forward. Suddenly, Balthazar doubled over, spitting up blood, and Castiel was pitched hard into the wall. A flurry of wings sounded and the two archangels had vanished again as the ones remaining just fell to the ground.

Balthazar coughed again and tried to look over to his brother. “Cas?” No answer and it was too dark to really make out, but the faint outline of Castiel lying on the ground and not moving wasn't too reassuring. “Cas?” Bal moved forward, placing a hand on Castiel's arm and finally getting some sort of answer.

The other groaned, but still didn't move. “Balthazar,” he spoke, voice raspy and harsh. “I don't feel well.”

“Hang on,” Bal told him quietly, putting his arm over his shoulders and hauling Castiel to his feet, trying to heal him as best he could. Apparently, Lucifer had done a great amount of damage with nothing more than his mind. Perhaps it was unwise for him to be here, too.

After a few steps, the two found that they had walked into darkness. Balthazar could see better than his brother, but all that he could tell was that they were in a bigger room that branched off from the hallway. Which room, he wasn't too sure of.

They couldn't lose. What a hopeful statement that had been. Lucifer had them all in the palm of his hands. Even Gabriel with his extra grace was of no use with the elder's cunning behind him. And now they had just hobbled into a pitch black room together that even Balthazar's grace couldn't see through. This was certainly an anti-climatic situation if there ever was one, but at least he wasn't scared. This was nothing compared to the battle with Michael. Castiel, on the other hand, was more than likely afraid with more than good reason.

The two had stopped walking and just listened for something, anything, near them. This had to be some sort of trap, surely, but nothing was happening. Maybe Lucifer was preoccupied with Gabriel and their little rebel had abandoned ship since he had been revealed. Tightening his grip on Cas' arm, Balthazar began to back pedal to the light again, hoping that this was nothing more than a bullet dodged.

Suddenly, the temperature dropped and the two brothers stopped their movements, knowing that he was approaching quickly. There was a flash of light that forced Castiel to look away, but Balthazar could just make out Gabriel's back being slammed into the floor in front of them, but the darkness grew back around them again and there was a harrowing silence.

Bal tried to look around as best he could or even sense anything near them, but he was only reminded of the day he had lost his grace and how claustrophobic he had become because of it. Castiel didn't see the instant that he had, but his brother wasn't piercing the silence to ask questions either. Bal almost wished he would... Was Gabriel still on the floor in front of them? Was he alive at all?

Lucifer's voice cut through the dark in a singsong voice, “Balthazar...”

Cas muttered a quick, “No,” beneath his breath, as Bal pushed his brother's arm away and stood in front of him protectively, sword in hand, trying to simultaneously shield Castiel but also get this over with. He was the primary target, not the others. However, he also swore to protect himself and it was a promise he more than intended to keep.

Footsteps lazily echoed around the room, bouncing off of the walls. Cas held on tightly to his brother's shoulder, his eyes closed, trying to rely less on sight and ignoring his hammering heart. Even as an angel once again, his brother was still as tense as could be in the situation. They both stayed quiet, trying to hear for anything, but it was just the same repeating sound followed one after the other for more than a full five seconds.

Cas' hand was ripped away from Balthazar's shoulder and the blonde quickly turned around to find the two silhouetted against the red glow of the hallway. Lucifer had his arm wrapped around Cas' throat, but hesitated long enough for Bal to turn and see them before making a move. It was just long enough for Gadreel to come up from behind the two and stab Satan through the back.

Instead of dying in a flash of light, Lucifer jerked forward enough for Castiel to escape his grip before he turned and tried to lunge for Gadreel who quickly attempted to back away as fast as he could. It was apparent that his blade, still stuck in the devil's back, wasn't a strong enough tool to finish an archangel.

Wings were heard and Gabriel appeared between the fighting pair, holding his own blade and pushing his weight against his eldest brother. Lucifer, however, dodged the weapon easily enough and pushed Heaven's messenger back into the wall as hard as he could.

Gabe dropped his sword and Gadreel rushed forward, swiping it up and stabbing Lucifer in the stomach.

Castiel and Balthazar only realized what had happened after the fact. Gabriel had fallen to the floor, but still tried to crawl away once noticing the light beginning to emanate from the devil.

Lucifer looked to Gadreel, unbelieving, before finally blinking down to himself and the blade plunged into him. With one last push of the sword, Lucifer burst into a powerful white light. Balthazar pushed himself in front of his human brother again, trying to protect him, but Gabriel threw himself forward reluctantly and held on to Lucifer's vessel, trying to contain the blast as his brother died.

In an instant, it was over and the bunker was no worse for wear. Even the lights began to blink back on once again. Gadreel stood back from them all, panting heavily from the turmoil and watching the scene before him. Gabriel had pulled the body to the floor and the skeleton of large wings was etched into the walls around them.

He took a deep breath and looked back up to Castiel and Balthazar before glancing over to Gadreel in shock.

* * *

Catherine watched as the waves tried to reach higher and higher up the shore, almost attempting to get her shoes a little wet. The sun had gone down, but the light of the sunset was still glittering over the water. Cat sat on the sand next to Dean and, to be quite honest, her mind wasn't on the water at all. “You didn't keep in contact with him after I died?”

Dean took a deep breath. “I'm not sure if you've noticed or not,” he grumbled, “but me and Balthazar don't have the best track record. Guy's been kind of a dick. Did he ever tell you about the Titanic crap? Or sending me and Sam to an alternate dimension so we could act like his distraction?”

Her mouth was open, about to interrupt him, when her brow furrowed and realized this had been the second time that the Titanic came up in concern to her angel. “Actually, he-” She shook her head. “That's not the point. Did anyone check up on him at all? You guys just watched him freak out and let him go? No grace or anything?”

“He didn't want his grace. I don't know why,” the Winchester shrugged, “Gabriel and Cas tried to keep tabs on him, but he didn't seem to want it too much. He kinda just shrugged them off and did his own thing.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn't die so that he could wallow in self-pity.”

“It wasn't self-pity,” Dean said sternly, making Catherine instantly go silent, “Taking his grace back would have honestly just made him a walking, live nuke. He lost you and he wasn't okay... Dick or not, I can understand losing someone you care about and he doesn't care about too much stuff.” Cat looked to the ground and the other sighed. “I get what you did, too. I really do, but you gotta understand that he wouldn't have just been okay with you dying.”

She looked back to the waves and watched them for a long time before shrugging one shoulder. “He didn't have to be okay right off the bat, but-... I don't know. I was hoping he just... didn't understand what he was feeling.”

Dean looked to her before turning away to watch the water, too. “Were you really hoping that?”

Catherine frowned, but didn't answer. It was a tough question that had two very different answers. One was best for him, but the other was what they both wanted. It was hard to choose out of a selection like that. Dean sighed, signifying that her silence had answered for her.

Wings beat behind them, stirring up the sand again, and they both turned to find Balthazar standing there. They quickly stood and, somehow, Dean had managed to run forward first, nearly tripping over his own limbs.

“What happened?” he hurriedly asked, “Where's Sam? Who died? Did we win?”

Balthazar walked forward and waved his hand to Dean, making him vanish in thin air. Catherine blinked at the sudden disappearance and turned to Bal who still approached. “Wha- _Did_ we win? What's wrong?”

Before the breath of her question even left her, Balthazar had snaked his arm around her neck and pulled her closer into a deep kiss. She took that as a yes, they did win, and slowly returned his kiss, eventually placing her hand on his shoulders. When he finally broke away with the knowledge that she probably needed air, Catherine stayed still for a moment, her hand moving slowly through the air in an attempt to find him again.

When her hand landed on him, she opened her eyes and blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he gasped in between deep breaths. “We should talk.” Catherine only blinked to him, still a little shocked by the sudden kiss and a bit confused by what he planned to do next, but his hands rubbed against her shoulders to steady her. “I'm staying.”

She blinked at him some more, but then her brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“I'm staying here. On Earth,” he told her, rubbing her arms and shoulders a little more in the hopes that she wouldn't be upset. “With you.”

Cat was speechless for a moment, watching him with wide, bright eyes, until she finally came back to herself. “But your wings. What about Heaven?”

“I can _visit_ Heaven, but it's all a damn soap opera there anyway. I want to stay.” He wanted to do as before. Lose his grace somewhere and live out a good life with her before it was finally over. But she would never stand for it and, as much as he tried to deny it before, she died to save him once already. He could never let that sacrifice be in vain. “I'm not leaving you.”

She wanted to smile. He could see her just on the very brink of happiness, but there was a sudden sadness in her eyes that he greatly despised. “Bal... You're going to be around for a long time and I-”

Balthazar stepped closer before she could finish. “Then I should make the most of what I have, right?” he asked, looking into her eyes and seeing the conflict there, so he decided to take the conflict away. His voice was hushed, only loud enough for the two of them to hear, “Don't make me leave.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and she took a breath before moving forward and wrapping him in a hug. “I'll never ask you to leave,” Bal heard her whisper to him, and he closed his eyes, trying to think on the moment and not the far off future.

He was setting himself up for pain, and he was well aware of it. They could only grow closer, even if things changed between them several times over. It didn't change that he would love her for the rest of his life. That he would be forced to watch her die again and, after those very short years, live alone for eternity as before. Only worse. Memories were nice, but his time with her would be forever too short.

Maybe he could whisk her away to a place she would never die. Maybe they would have a child that would live just a little longer than she would. He knew that she would bring up Heaven someday. He knew that he would watch over her soul more than he should and it would be an unhealthy practice. He also knew her and some of the pain she felt and that she would always have a place for Sidney, the man she was more than likely meant to be with. There would be a Heaven for them both and he would protect it with his life while it tore him apart.

Balthazar squeezed his eyes shut and held her as tight as he could without hurting her, breathing in her scent and forcing himself to focus on the now. These would be the memories that would keep him going. “I love you,” he mumbled to her, his hand raveling through her hair again like it belonged there.

She dipped her head forward into his collar, making him wonder if she was crying or not, until he finally heard her say, “I love you...  _so much_ .”

* * *

The years passed by and so did she.

As predicted, her life had been a busy one, but he made sure that it had been comfortable. They had problems, risks, threats, but there was happiness and love there, too. She lived as long as he could allow without making her suffer. Of course, she was aware and she apologized for her death years before it came. For some reason, she seemed to believe they he would have left long before old age became her, so she apologized for that, too, until he had to make her stop.

He didn't like thinking of the day she died. He hated every second of it. He hated her apologies and her soft smile and her talk of an afterlife with him. While he never voiced it, she knew his thoughts on what an afterlife held for her and that it didn't include him at all. Catherine never said anything, because he never said anything. He hated all of it and every moment thereafter.

More years passed by and he sat on a familiar swing on a familiar porch with the beautiful Fall day rustling through the leaves. It wasn't the real thing. Only a replica set in Heaven. Her real home was, thankfully, still there on Earth, but had aged dramatically. The last time he had gone there, the swing had vanished and the house creaked and moaned with the wind. The only reason he hadn't gone back since was from fear that someone or something had destroyed the house and he didn't think that he could handle it. The passage of time was far too disheartening for him right now. Maybe he could go back there in another time, during another age, and remember. For now, he stayed in Heaven and kept watch.

This home was different, but he didn't know how different. He had never set foot inside, honestly afraid of what or who he might find there. But this was the only Heaven with her home in it. She was here. He just wasn't so much of a masochist to go and see her face to face.

He didn't keep up with time. In Heaven, if one didn't concern themselves with humanity, there just wasn't any point to it. It had been some odd years, but still just a small lapse to a being like him who had done nothing more than make sure he didn't leave this porch. Castiel would come to him often since he had managed to get some sort of semblance of a grace back, and yet he always somehow managed to never mention Catherine. To be honest, Balthazar was appreciative of it, unlike Gabriel's visits where his older brother would do nothing but lecture him. Thankfully, Gabriel only showed up once in a blue moon.

He understood the lectures, though. All Gabriel wished for him was happiness. Yet, all Balthazar wanted was to be left alone with the issue. If he ever decided to leave or travel again like he once had, then he would. Nothing was stopping him. For the moment, though, he was here and he was going to stay here until he no longer wanted to be. It would be painful no matter where he went or what he did. The loss would weigh forever.

Balthazar took a deep breath and leaned back on the swing, allowing his head to tip up and watch the ceiling. Everything was in quite the stark detail, down to the little cobwebs stuck in the rafters. The air was nice and cool, the sun always brightly shining, even sometimes glinting across something red around the corner of the house. That would be that car of hers.

The silence, as usual, offered him time to think. This time, instead of on a loving, painful memory, his mind rested on Gabriel's words to him. He had urged Balthazar to do something. To either leave and try to enjoy his life or give in and go to see his human lover with his own eyes. Bal refused both options and it just launched the two in another heated argument. Still, he understood. That just didn't make it any easier on him.

His fingers played with the chain of the swing as he thought on what to do for a long time. At length, long after he took that deep breath, Balthazar rose from his spot and decided to do one or the other. Leaving was the only option that would help him at all, but he couldn't leave without checking on her and that idea made him stall on a decision.

It would be quick. Merely a moment and then he could run away, knowing with the fullness of his being that she was safe and happy... Why did angels even feel such human emotions like this?

He squared his shoulders and moved forward, gently pushing the door open and walking into the house. Immediately, he was met with her small living room. Even in Heaven, there was a devil's trap at the front door. Balthazar smiled and walked in, looking for where she may be. He didn't want to look too hard or move too quickly. Honestly, he was still dragging his feet over the idea.

Voices drifted to him down the hallway from a room that he had only known to store books and boxes of supplies. Of course she had moved things around after Sidney's death. Balthazar grimaced and walked closer, finally coming to a doorway and seeing exactly what he had always expected. He had only known the man from pictures, but here he was, laying in Catherine's bed with nothing by smiles. She was laying at an angel to him, her head resting on his chest, laughing at something that had been said. She was happy and young. The sight pained him and he felt horribly guilty over it.

The only thing of his features betraying how he felt was the deeper frown than usual. Otherwise, he tried hard to keep things as they have been. But before turning away from them both, he wanted to have a small look closer and see her soul as happy as he once made her feel, if not happier. That would make him feel better.

Balthazar stalled for a second and blinked, stepping forward into the room and looking between the two. Sidney's soul was happy and content, while Catherine's soul was... absent.

Bal turned, scanning through the house and the little section of Heaven, finding no trace of her. This wasn't his Catherine's Heaven. It had been Sidney's-... Balthazar frantically searched through Heaven for her soul, not feeling fear like this since Michael held her in his fist.

Then the fear quickly subsided once he found her bright, beautiful soul healthy and happy in another corner. His eyes closed, feeling a cold rain hit his face long before the storm made any sound on the environment. When he did open his eyes, the sight that greeted was one that he never even bothered to dream would happen. Her car sat out in the rain, parked closely to an old, abandoned home off of the road. He knew the place instantly even though he had only laid eyes on it once in his long life.

Balthazar stepped forward, moving through the rain and towards the front door. With a surprisingly light push, it opened and he slowly walked inside. The interior was as dark as he remembered, too, and still leaked, but it hardly even registered with his thoughts. A faint light poured through a doorway and Bal walked towards it as quietly as he could, fearing it to be something else, maybe even a trick.

He had to get up his nerve to peek inside, but slowly Balthazar moved into the light, spying her soul again. The air left him and eyes stung, finally allowing himself to belief in something that was too good for him.

Catherine, young and unharmed, looked up from the floor, almost surprised at the appearance, but a soft smile quickly enough graced her lips. “Hi, Bal,” she whispered before reaching her arms out for him invitingly. “You made me wait.”

 


	41. A/N EXTRA

Everything below the rule line was posted on FF.Net as chapter 41. I figured I'd post it here, too. I hope you AO3 readers have enjoyed the ride.

* * *

**Hello again, all!** As said before, this is a goodies chapter of things from this fic. Sorry to anyone who popped in thinking there was ONE MORE new chapter, but you're not entirely out of luck either. Here, I'm going to post summaries of scenes that I had to delete for the story to go fluidly and alternate paths this story almost took, so consider it AU ideas for this AU.

But first! I want to give a shout out to the reviewers. More importantly, the reviewers who have been with this fic for a good bit and who I have come to recognize and look forward to hearing from. They are: **animagirl, Stardust67, FireChildSlytherin5, MusicIsTheSoulOfMan, R3ICH3NBACH, Marlowee1856, EmmaMarie, Quest's Tails, and CeliaSingsSongs**. Let it be known that these guys are just the honorable mentions. I know I haven't really replied to reviews, but every single one of them was absolutely more than appreciated. I loved hearing about how you guys love a particular scene or certain emotions. It made it all wonderful.

* * *

Second! Everyone loves some music, right? Well, I may have been influenced by a few songs I've come across, most of which played on in the background as I typed up this beast:

lina-trinch (dot) dreamwidth (dot) org (forward slash) 5322 (dot) html

So I may have made a playlist/CD sort of thing for this fic. Oops. Anyway, most of the songs that helped this fic along are there with links to YouTube and 8tracks for your listening pleasure. And yeah, I made cover art one evening after work when I was really tired. Don't mind me. Anyway, enjoy it as much as I've been. I hope you find a new song you like

* * *

AND FINALLY! We come to the real reason why you're all here. Before we get to the twists and turns that almost made this fic something completely different, here's some of the scenes that I ended up completely taking out for one reason or another.

In Chapter 10: Instead of finding Gabriel right off the bat, the archangel heals Catherine, without the readers knowing why she's suddenly cured, then traps her and Balthazar in an alternate dimension of television genres, making them go through things such as post-apocalyptic war, Hunger Games-style survival, Victorian-era dinner parties, street racing, and other random scenarios. Their mission in every genre was to find each other (as they would always start out separated) and escape each world together. Eventually a situation would arise where only one of them could leave and the other would have been forced to stay behind. When they decided to stay together anyway even if it meant remaining trapped there, Gabriel would reveal himself and lift the illusion. It was a grand entrance fit for a grand character, but I decided that would have been a whole extra chapter or two added to the story, so I just skipped it and went along.

In Chapters 23-26: Something crazy happens during a fight and Balthazar is forced to leave his vessel behind, a lot like the Supernatural episode where Jimmy Novak was introduced. I didn't do this because I would have had to make up an entirely new OC and figure out how to get Bal back into his vessel. It was a neat idea, but not needed to forward the plot at all, so it was sacked.

In Chapters 30-33: After Catherine's death, Balthazar gets into a fight with a big group of angels and only just manages to make it out alive. Injured and leaving in a hurry, he quickly gets lost and accidentally finds the same house he and Cat spent their first night together. The car breaks down, ensuring he can't leave, and he gets very angry. It was going to be a very emotional scene, but if I added that, then I would have had to add Bal getting over his injuries, which would have taken some time. I could have added it right before Gabriel comes to look for him, but that would have changed how her ghost/soul started speaking to him, so I just skipped this, too. Instead, I put a homage to this idea in Chapter 33, where he dreams about that night.

In Chapters 30-36: Catherine's experiences while dead with Balthazar's grace. At first, I decided to push back any scenes with Cat's soul, because I wanted it to be a least a little bit suspenseful as to whether her soul still existed or not. There at last, though, when it was revealed that she had been with Balthazar the whole time, I figured you guys would just want to see what's going to happen next what with Bartholomew and Michael and all of that instead of reading about Cat questioning everything and not knowing what's going on. Another problem was that I couldn't decide on how to write it, what the setting would be, if Bal's grace would manifest itself to interact with her, if she'd figure out what was going on, etc. There were a lot of problems with this idea, despite how neat it would have been to explore. Again, there's a homage to this in Chapter 36, at the very beginning where Cat is realizing that she can't sense Balthazar's closeness anymore. I kept it pretty vague cause it's a little out of place to suddenly have the dead chick narrate.

In Chapter 33: Instead of getting interrupted by her ghost, Balthazar gives in and finally goes through Catherine's bag. A hurtful moment, but there's a sense of closure from her death there as well. He was to end up falling asleep with a shirt of hers. Again, very emotional scene, but I didn't want him to find a shred of closure, because she needed to come back. If he found some closure to her death and accepted it, it was likely he would have ended up listening to Gabriel and sent her to Heaven once she was found. Also, if he gained a little bit of acceptance of her death and she suddenly showed up again, it would have been very hard for him and he would have had serious attachment issues that I didn't want to go through.

In Chapter 40 or a possible second part to the fic: Balthazar stays on Earth and lives out Catherine's life with her. Not so much a deleted scene as much as I would have taken a bit of time to write out their life together. Also, there would have been a son involved. That was the entire reason I didn't write out any of this, because I figured they would eventually end up having a child. That would have been at least another 20 chapters or so.

In an epilogue: Their time in Heaven together. Balthazar is overprotective of her soul and never leaves, though she doesn't mind. In an extreme case of this, he doesn't allow anyone else into her Heaven or he kills them on sight. If I had continued on with this idea, he would have eventually been forced to leave her there for one reason or another and either he would have died or she would have been taken or something. Either way, if I wrote out this one for a lengthy bit, it would have more than likely been a sad ending and I wanted this to be a happy ending. Since I didn't write this, they are forever happy together in Heaven. Isn't that much better?

* * *

And now, here are a bunch of alternate routes this story very nearly took:

-Balthazar gets his wings back, but fails to find Catherine. It's presumed that her soul was destroyed. He goes back in time to Chapter 5 or so to tell himself to leave Cat in Sioux Falls. He explains that he fell in love with her and that she suffered because of it. Chapter 5's Balthazar doesn't really believe he fell in love with a human and takes the warning with a grain of salt. His curiosity leads him to stay and figure Catherine out. An alternate time line begins.

-Lucifer takes Catherine to Hell and either ends up making her into a knight (which was the original idea for this story) or Balthazar manages to go to Hell to save her.

-Michael had Catherine's soul the entire time after her death and uses her as leverage to control Balthazar. He starts out as an inside man against Gabriel and the Winchester's, but becomes their enemy as he's forced to fight against them.

-Balthazar's fears and predictions come true and Catherine's soul is happily with Sidney's in Heaven. Bal remains alone and vigilant for the both of them, living out the rest of eternity in heartache.

-Catherine allows Balthazar to not accept his grace and she leaves with him the night he confesses to her. More adventures begin as the resulting end is pushed back due to more prolonged fighting. Michael doesn't lose his graces and Gabriel's plan to trick Lucifer fails, possibly ending in someone's death.

-Catherine gains a slightly flirtatious relationship with Gabriel, Dean, or both. They care for her in return and Balthazar is extremely jealous. Her affections remain with Bal, but when he accepts his grace, she opts to be with Dean as he's human. She believes she would only hold Bal back and hurt him more when she inevitably dies. Bal doesn't argue or speak out when she leaves him, but he continues to love and watch over her, still hurt despite her trying to prevent it.

-After Catherine dies, Balthazar leaves the group with Castiel by his side instead of by himself.

-It's discovered that Catherine's soul was destroyed at the time of her death. This could have gone two ways. 1: Balthazar can't handle the loss, resulting in mass, horrible murderers everywhere he goes, hoping someone will kill him eventually. 2: Bal starts to quickly seem like he's over Catherine and her death. He's like his old self until someone mentions her, causing extremely violent and upsetting reactions.

-When he loses his grace, Balthazar also loses his memories. Catherine tries to help him know and remember who he is, but he doesn't really believe that he's an actual angel. He begins to subtly cling to her and distrusts everyone else until he warms up to them.

-Catherine goes through with Lucifer's deal, though not be choice. Balthazar tries to stop the war with the others anyway, dodging Luci's chances to give his grace back, but the war goes on, the world is destroyed, and he's the last living thing left. Lucifer forces his grace on him and locks him up in Heaven, completely alone for eternity.

-During the fight between Balthazar and Michael, things take a turn for the worst and the archangel gains the upper hand. He destroys Catherine's soul, forcing Bal to watch.

-During the same fight as above, Balthazar begs Michael to spare Catherine, telling him that he is willing to do anything. Michael takes him up on the offer and forces Balthazar to torture Catherine, effectively losing her trust, before she is released to safety. The two angels then leave to cause mayhem around the world. All the while Cat thinks that she was betrayed and Bal only acted like he cared for her the entire time. Eventually, with the rescue being forwarded by Castiel, they kill Michael and set Bal free. Balthazar instead surrenders to them as the guilt of what he's done has been eating him whole and he admits that he is willing to let Catherine kill him if she wants to do so. But, after learning the truth of Michael's manipulations, she lets Balthazar live under the condition he never comes near her again.

-While looking for Raphael, Balthazar is gravely injured and quickly nearing death. Catherine is beside herself with grief until an angel begins to speak to her. Bal tries to stop Cat from listening, but the angel promises to heal Bal if she agrees to be a vessel. Against Bal's begs and pleas, she says yes.

-Instead of Sachiel, the cherub, it is actually the goddess Aphrodite forcing people to fall in love, but they always end up dead.

* * *

AND that's it! If you really really want to read one of the deleted scenes or alternate courses, **let me know** and I might even write it out as an extension on to this fic. If you have your own ideas of things that could have happened, I'd also love to hear that, too. :)

It's like the extras on a DVD, isn't it?

Anyway, thank you all so much once again for reading. I hope you've enjoyed this little goody pack. :) This is my THANK YOU to you.


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